Gone
by izobelanya
Summary: It is a regular day for the team at Xavier's school. Suddenly, everything changes forever. Life is now a battle, and there are no adults, power or internet to help. Everyone is suddenly isolated inside an impenetrable, giant dome, with teamwork the only way to survive. Who will survive, and who will not? (I do not own the GONE books or the Avengers) T for swearing!
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Clint," Natasha called, sauntering into the teacherless classroom. It was her fourth year at Xavier's, and she hadn't seen her friends all summer. First on her list? Clint.

"Hey Nat," Clint said through a mouthful of whatever it was he'd concocted and called food. "Did you hear about the new kids?"

Natasha shook her head, a small frown appearing on her features. She was always up to date on gossip, and was surprised she had missed this.

"Well, after the big Thor-Loki thing last year, they left, and it opened up two spaces. There's these new weird kids coming in. German? I think she said they were german."

Natasha shook her head. "So how are Steve and Sam doing?"

Clint laughed, rocking back in his chair. "Last time I checked, Steve was still hung up on his not-so-secret crush and Sam's spent the whole summer with his dad at the local base. He's nearly as strong as Steve and I now! It'll almost be a contest for the rugby auditions."

"Not if these new kids don't audition. Thor left, remember? The team's gonna be pretty lost without him." Natasha quipped, taking a seat and removing her hoodie as Mr Summers strode into the classroom.

"Alright, everyone, I am Mr Summers, and that is what I will be called. I am going to be your tutor for this year. Rules apply, but I'll be lenient with mobile devices as long as the volume is kept to a minimum."

Natasha smirked as she watched Summers adjust the red sunglasses on his nose. No doubt he'd been drinking with the PE teacher, Mr Howlett. Oh well, anything was an advantage at this point. Natasha pulled out her phone and checked her notifications. None.

"So, there's the new kids." Clint was still chewing, albeit with less food (was that even food?) in his mouth. He flicked a finger to the very edge of the class, by the window. The new kids, presumably twins, had sat next to each other, sharing a conversation in what appeared to be German. Natasha was rusty - she hadn't taken German classes since Year 8. She could pick out the occasional word, like Father, School, and Class. Nothing of use or interest.

"No doubt the Tony Squad is going to be late. Again. I can't wait to see his face when he gets a detention. They've introduced a new rule this year: more than five minutes and you get a detention." Clint grinned.

"Knowing Stark and his friends, they've probably gotten into the system and marked themselves on time for the rest of the year." Natasha scowled. She had no patience for Stark, as she refused to acknowledge him by his first name, or his equally irritating, smarmy friends, Reed Richards and Bruce Banner. Well, Bruce wasn't so bad, in Natasha's eyes. He was just a bit of a doormat. An intelligent one.

"Hey, Clint, Nat," Sam's voice came from behind them, so the pair turned and saw Sam pull up two chairs: one for himself and one for Steve, who was talking to Maria Hill. "How are you guys doing?"

"I have literally done nothing but play video games." Clint responded, twirling a pen in his fingers.

"I'm good." Natasha replied, keeping her voice even. "Russia was nice. I heard you spent the summer on base with your dad and Steve?"

Sam grinned, looking down and stroking a finger across his forehead. "Yeah, that was pretty cool. Lots of running in the mornings, ya know? Anyway, let's get Steve over - Hey! Buddy!"

Natasha turned to Clint as Sam summoned Steve.

"I forgot to ask - how's Laura?" Natasha asked. Clint's face went dark. He made a phone symbol with his hand, pressing it against the side of his face. Natasha knew very well what that signal meant. She pulled out her phone and opened up their private chat while Steve and Sam made loud jokes about times spent on the base together.

Natasha: What happened?

Clint: She cheated, it wasn't fun.

Natasha: I trust you don't want me to murder her?

Clint: No, it's fine. Just please don't spill.

Natasha: You can trust me.

They put their phones away almost instantly afterwards, joining the vivid conversation Sam and Steve had going.

* * *

"Hey, Brucey," Tony laughed, taking off his sunglasses one handed and folding them into a pocket of his tailored school blazer. "What's going on?"

Bruce shook his head. "It's nothing, Tony. Just a new teacher who doesn't seem to appreciate how much leniency like this will cost him."

Tony clicked his fingers out of habit, sitting. "Epic. I like easy teachers." Reed rolled his eyes from where he sat next to Bruce. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"So there's some new kids," Bruce pointed out. "Wanna go say hi? They seem kinda okay."

"Hmm, I don't know," Tony said, glancing over. The boy was tall and lanky, with dark curls. The girl was pretty in an odd way, with long, wavy brown hair tied back and a rounded face. Both looked bored. "At least they realise how boring this place is."

"Hey, it's not that bad," Pepper walked up, putting her uber-high-tech smartphone into a pocket. "Also, hello Tony."

"Well, it just got significantly less boring," Tony grinned. "Hey, Peps! Oh god, save me from the swathes of boring peasants."

"Ah, well, if it isn't Mr Stark himself, gracing us with his presence," Steve's sarcasm was lethal. "You wanna budge a bit so I can get past?"

"Steve, you could roll under a door- WHat the fuck?" Tony struggled to hide his surprise at Steve's new appearance. "Have you been on steroids or what?"

"No, Stark, I just got off my ass. Now can you please do the same?" Tony obligingly stood, not used to the new attitude or appearance. It was like a completely different person.

"Well, man, now I have the heeby-jeebies for the day. Jesus." Stark shivered. Today was going to be odd.


	2. Chapter 2

The bell rang quickly, making Pietro jump. He was not used to loud noises, and did not like the loud clanging that the bells here made.

"Calm down, Pietro. This is school, there are bound to be bells." Wanda soothed, putting her book - a thick german novel - into her pack. She stood and waited for Mr Summers to dismiss them - they had English with Dr Grey next. Pietro, upon hearing the name, had made endless fifty shades of grey jokes. Wanda rolled her eyes and felt herself settle as the class grew silent, waiting to be allowed out.

"Okay, I trust you all know where your next classes are?" Mr Summers didn't look up from his laptop. "Go on then, but don't make too much-"

And that was it. This was when everything started going wrong.

Mr Summers disappeared exactly halfway through his sentence, leaving nothing behind, not even the irritating red sunglasses Wanda had noticed he was wearing. There had been a quiet pop sound, but apart from that, the class was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

"... Everyone else saw that too, right?" Someone asked. Shortly after, the class broke into hysteric conversations.

"Pietro, let's just go to our next class," Wanda whispered, and the two siblings snuck out of the room.

* * *

"What on earth just happened?" Steve asked, swivelling backwards to face Sam, Natasha and Clint. He'd have to tell Bucky about this - Bucky, being unlucky, was stuck in another tutor with Peggy. Steve missed having his friend around in the mornings.

There was the sound of someone coming down the hallway at a high speed - maybe a teacher had been alerted, Steve thought. He was surprised when an out-of-breath Bucky swung in through the door.

"Mr Summers?-" He panted, looking around the classroom wildly, long pieces of hair falling from the bun he'd scraped it back into. "He went too?"

Steve leapt to his feet. More than one teacher had gone?

"Yeah, he just disappeared while he was dismissing us. Did something happen in your class, too?" He asked, walking over to the front of the class.

"Dr Grey just went, like a poof of smoke. Peg's gone down to get Xavier, if she can find him. Like half the class is gone too - all the older people. What on earth is going on?" Bucky hadn't sounded this worried in recent memory; usually he was very blaise in these situations.

"Just keep calm, wait in this room, and Xavier will be down shortly. If we make a run for it, we're asking for trouble." Natasha said calmly, pulling out a phone. She frowned when there was no signal. The only reason she'd bought this expensive model was because it was known for keeping signal. It shouldn't have lost it in the middle of an average-sized town.

"Do any of you guys have signal? I'm going to call Barney and get us a lift out of here if nobody comes in the next hour." Clint decided, still unhappy about the lack of phone signal. A resounding "no" echoed from the group.

"So the phone signal and wifi is down, and there are no teachers or older kids in the school. Man, I haven't got time for this shit," Sam hissed, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. Steve wanted to call him out on his language, but decided now was not the time.

Tony, or as many knew him, Stark, had meanwhile gotten into Summers' computer. He grinned as his fingers flew over the keyboard with ease. "Guys? I have a wifi connection!"

Steve and Clint raced over, eager to see what was happening. "Is there any way we can find out what's going on?"

Tony quickly typed a brief version of events into google, and a few hundred news articles came up. He scanned them at a pace Steve couldn't even hope to match.

"Something similar happened at Perdido Beach a few decades ago, and it lasted a couple of months," He muttered. "Half of the town was encased by an impenetrable dome, made of translucent material that went clear about eight months in. Nobody under the age of fifteen could be found outside the dome - everyone above that age was teleported out by an unknown force."

"Can we make contact with the outside? Assuming we are in a dome, that is. Maybe somebody knows what's going on." Bruce padded over, ever the voice of reason in a class of hysterics. Bucky, Clint and Natasha had all returned to their respective cell phones, with Sam talking to Richards about what had occurred.

Peggy, much like Bucky, appeared in the doorway, breathless. "Is James Barnes in here?"

"You bet I am," Bucky said, leaping over. "What happened in the office?"

"Nobody's there, and I checked a few classrooms; all the adults and older teenagers are gone, too." Peggy rested against the doorhandle for a moment, before gesturing to where Tony, Bruce, and Steve stood over Summers' laptop. "That's not a good idea."

"We're just trying to contact peoples' parents. If there are any adults left, we'll find them." Steve reassured her. "Tony also found articles on a similar event from a while back that happened in America. If this is the same, we're not going to last very long."

Peggy went pale. "Oh god, I read about that. The Perdido Anomaly? That lasted nearly two years! The fatality rate was half! Oh god," Peggy sat, head in her hands. Natasha came and reassured her; apparently many were having breakdowns that day.

Sam beckoned for Steve to come over. "Look, man, I don't want to do this, but if we have any chance of surviving in a scenario like Perdido, then we have to get everyone we need and make tracks, like the Maximoff kids." As Sam said it, Steve realised the Maximoff kids were gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve, Sam, Bucky, Clint and Natasha decided that it was a good idea to head into the central area of the school's nearest town to search for adults.

Leaving the school was not something that Steve liked doing, especially as he lived alone. Generally, his tiny flat was an empty, with the holes his parents left still not being filled, despite how fantastic his friends were.

"So, what's the plan?" Clint asked as he hauled himself over the tall, intimidating iron gates that fenced off the "posh twat place", as the town's youths liked to call it.

"Whatever happens, we stick together. And do you wanna go pick up your dogs?" Bucky asked him. It was well known that Clint's two labradors, Cooper and Lila, were like his children. Together with his neighbour's daughter Laura, he had raised them ever since finding them in a cardboard box left on the side of the road.

"Okay, so first stop, Clint's place. Second stop, the store? If there's any adults left, they'll be in there, and if there aren't, we can get food." Natasha said, knowing how the granola bars in her bag would not last more than a few meals between so many people.

"Alright. Let's head to the corner store." It was run by Natasha's aunt and uncle, so she was pretty sure they would be lenient if they found she had taken food. The store was nearby, and thankfully, untouched. It made sense, really; the kids from the other school, closer to the town, had probably gone for all the clothing stores and alcohol - they wouldn't think for the future.

There were two kids standing outside the door of the store, trying to open it. The girl, who Natasha recognized as Wanda, the new girl, and her anxious brother Pietro, hopping from foot to foot.

"Hey, what's all this?" Natasha asked neutrally, keeping her eyes fixed on the girl. Was she a threat?

"I'm just trying to get water. This is the only place that hasn't been smashed to bits." Wanda's voice keeps even, knowing that she is being viewed as a potential threat.

Natasha considered it for a moment, and as she did, Wanda realised she was probably better off as this girls' friend.

"I know how to pick locks, it'll only take me a moment."

Natasha seemed to approve of this. "Thanks. I don't have a key; my relatives don't trust me as much as I'd like them to."

The guys Natasha had brought with her had meanwhile taken up positions at either end of the street, watching out for trouble. Pietro hovered over Wanda, never taking his eyes off her.

"There we go," Wanda grinned as the door swung open, Natasha leading the way and reaching for the light switch. She flipped it a few times, but no power came.

"Great." The redhead hissed.

"I have a flashlight." Wanda pulled it out of her pack quickly, with Pietro rolling his eyes as Clint came barrelling in.

"Dibs on the chocolate!" Clint was swatted by Natasha as he surged past.

"So, what brings you to Xaviers'?" Natasha asked, and Wanda knew a peace offering when she saw one.

"My father knows Xavier," The girl replied, hauling a heavy two-litre bottle to Pietro. "He has a house not far from here, with a large basement and a generator. That's where we are headed. It does not have food though, and we will need water for a few days until we can set up the river filter."

"He planned for everything?" Natasha heaved a huge pack of tinned food from a low shelf and onto the cart Clint was pushing; Pietro was filling another with the highest-calorie non-perishables he could find.

"Yeah, he built the house in secret with Xavier in case of a war, something like that. He never explained it to Pietro and I. Look, you've been great to let us in here, so if you ever need a place to hide for a while, our doors are open." Natasha grinned at that; it was nice to have someone to trust now that the adults were gone.

Adults were gone.

Oh god.

She gasped as the reality of the situation sank in. Naturally, she kept cool on the outside, but inside, she was freaking out. It faded after a few seconds.

"Nat, you okay?" Clint called from on top of one of the shelves. What the hell was he doing sitting among the corn chips?

"Get down from there, Clint, before you bring the whole shelf down," Natasha shouted up. She turned back to Wanda. "Look, I don't want to seem pushy, but if this stuff stays here, it's gonna get stolen real quick and won't last longer than a week. If we can get it up to your house, can we stay there for a while? We'll bring the food, you guys open up the shelter. Just for a week or so, until the food runs out, or the adults come back."

Wanda nodded almost as quickly as Natasha had finished. "You seem nice, at least, and your friends seem cool. Pietro is getting on with... Clint? it seems." She gestured to where Pietro and Clint were "slyly" throwing gumballs at each other.

"The others are Sam, Bucky and Steve. They're all raised on the base north of here, so that's where we'd head, but it's a few days journey at best, and if we get caught in there, it'll be big trouble. Once we leave your house, we'll head there - and we'll send supplies down, of course. I really hope we can be friends."

Wanda grinned. "You seem trustworthy. And besides, we'll need help up there - farming and such, if it comes down to months of isolation." She held out a hand for Natasha to shake. "You're serious, about this?"

Natasha grinned and shook her hand. "You bet, Wanda."

 **A/N:** Sorry if this seems OOC, I'm hoping for the characters such as Natasha/Wanda (all the really kickass/femme fatale characters) to develop from regular "high-school" age students to their movie personas as I love reading character development and would love to include some in my story. Thanks! :D Also please review, and check out the Gone Series! They're really cool books, and definitely underrated!


	4. Chapter 4

Tony had taken command at the school, and through the first day, like a good leader, delegated jobs.

Bruce and Helen Cho were the doctors of the school, running the nurse's office.

Maria Hill and Peggy Carter were in charge of organising sleeping arrangements and making sure everything was safe.

Two odd-end ragtag kids named Fitz and Simmons had been put in charge of keeping the generators running.

Richards and the kids who lived on his street were in charge of distributing the food, even though Tony didn't trust this "Johnny Storm" kid.

Pepper and Rhodey, of course, were Tony's right-hand man and woman.

Everything was running fine, until Tony was told that several kids had gone missing: Steve's group and the new twins.

"Alright, Pepper, Rhodey, you're with me. We'll go search town and bring back any Xavier kids we find." He left Reed in charge, as was per usual.

The walk into town was usually happy, but in the low evening light and dull, musky air, the broken windows and smashed shop displays stood out even more. Broken glass strewed the streets and dogs padded back and forth. One large dog took a liking to Tony, following him and whining softly. The animal was huge, with large jaws and deep-set eyes.

Tony, ever unaware of danger, bent down to pet it. Fortunately, the animal seemed friendly.

"Geez, Tones, didn't anyone tell you about rabies?" Rhodey wrinkled his nose as the dog licked Tony's hand.

"It's not rabid, and I kinda like him." Tony brought a hand to his chin, thinking. "I'm gonna call him Jarvis."

"You guys had better leave," A voice declared. Four or five large teenagers appeared from around the corner, carrying various weapons. Tony smirked.

"We're not afraid of you guys. Honestly, I'm more scared of Jarvis," Tony patted the dog, not looking up.

"Oi, you heard Marko, get out." One of them said, his accent strong and foreign.

"We're just looking for our friends. You don't have to do this." Pepper attempted to be the voice of reason.

"You ain't looking for nobody, got it, bitch? Now get out of here before we lose our patience."

Tony stood, adjusting his school tie. "I'm sorry, why should I be afraid of you? After all, without your precious weapons, your low income housing means you're malnutritioned and weak. It also impacts your mental output, so you might want to think before you open your mouth."

"What did you just say?" The boy readied the broken bottle he was carrying and charged. Tony easily sidestepped and tripped him, sending the assailant into the ground.

"Look, we're looking for a bunch of Xavier kids, in uniforms like us. They must have come through this way." Rhodes kept his voice steady and his language neutral. "Do you know which way they went?"

The group's leader stood. "North, into the woods. Looked like they were headed for the bunker. Little fuckers took a few shopping carts full of food with them."

"Thankyou." Rhodes and Pepper nearly dragged Tony away, although he was not even close to satisfied.

* * *

"Okay, so that's the last of it," Steve shouted up to Pietro and Clint, who were sorting out the large bags of flour in the house's basement. Pietro and Wanda, upon getting to know the group on the journey to the house, had welcomed them with open arms.

"So, what brought you to Xavier's?" Pietro asked Clint as they went across to the river to cool down. The night air was hot and musty, with bugs hissing in the plants.

"I ran away from my abusive home and got put straight into another one," Clint said, skipping a rock on the water's surface. "I got put into a second home, and while they were rich and everything, they didn't really care. I suspect they took in three or four foster kids just to send them off to live in their own tatty apartments. Publicity, probably."

Pietro made a face. "That sounds like fun."

Clint sat back on a rock, sighing. "Yeah, I just hope Barney's okay. And Laura, too. She's a nice person, she deserves it."

"Hey," Pietro ruffled the hair of Lila, the cheerful little blonde labrador, as she brought him a stick to throw. Pietro had never interacted with a dog before, and he found he loved Clint's companions. Lila in particular, with her bright personality, had latched onto him.

"So I heard you and Wanda's story. What did you think of Xavier's? For the two hours you were actually there, I mean." Clint's voice rose into a chuckle.

"It seemed like a good school, but I guess that doesn't matter now. I wonder what the others are doing." Pietro threw Lila's stick again.

"Tony and his group have probably taken control and started dictating. He's most likely going to crown himself king and lead there. God knows he'll be in trouble if he talks to the kids from the other end of town - he's bound to rub them up the wrong way."

"Pizza's ready!" Natasha called from inside. As a first-night event, Natasha, Wanda and Sam had decided to cook up some microwave pizzas. None of the students knew how to cook in great detail, and figured that until they learned, the prepackaged, guaranteed-safe food was the best way to go.

"Pietro, here's your Hawaiian... and Clint's is the one with all the toppings." Natasha sighed as she handed Clint his pizza, which he grinned and bit into. It was laiden with every topping he'd found in the custom pizza box. Honestly, he lived on the things: a plain pizza and a few tubs of toppings to pick and choose with for a small price. Usually, being the scrooge he was, he would heap on all the food and get his money's worth, even if it meant that the toppings were a few inches thick.

The group, for the first time that day, felt safe as they ate.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Pietro woke up with shooting pains running through his body. Naturally, he didn't say anything, and kept on going about his usual business. He desperately tried to hide the wincing as he carried a plate full of food - apparently, he was wincing at the weight of a plate of food - when Clint came up to him and asked him if he was okay. Pietro felt like he'd had a vision; everything sprung into crystal clarity, the gentle hues of green, grey and hazel that composed Clint's eyes, the way his eyebrows arched when he spoke, and how his lips moved. Oh, how they moved, in gentle rhythm with the noise hitting his ears.

"Pietro?" Clint's expression was one usually given when someone said something crazy.

"Wha?" Pietro's response made Clint's eyebrows climb even higher. "Sorry, I didn't hear."

"I asked if you were okay," Clint gestured to his hands, where the plate of microwaved food resided. "You just seem a little quiet and subdued. Everything alright?"

Pietro chuckled, shaking his head. "It's just.. this. It's getting to me, you know? We could be in here for god knows how long."

Clint nodded. "It needs a name, any ideas?"

Pietro shrugged. "The last one was nicknamed the FAYZ, let's just go with that for now."

Clint agreed, passing Pietro a bottle of water. "Keep hydrated, it'll help with whatever pain you're in. Don't ask, I have a sixth sense for these things. Just if you have a cut, you need to get that bandaged before it gets infected. And I think that we have some general antibiotics and painkillers in the basement - you'll need to check."

Pietro grinned. "Thanks Clint, but I think I'm just going to rest."

Clint turned away to walk off when he heard something rushing towards him. He swung around and caught the carrot midair.

Pietro winked. "Bet you didn't see that coming!"

Clint swore revenge on him.

* * *

Pietro was sitting out in the woods near the house when he heard it. They were beautiful woods, with a stream and waterfalls, with deer tracks crisscrossing through on gentle paths.

An earsplitting, horribly recognisable scream echoed through him, and without thinking, Pietro was running, sprinting, not paying attention to how fast he was going or where his feet landed, just the fact that Wanda was in trouble, and not for long if he could help it.

He found her in the yard, cupping her in his arms - as they had for years - kneeling in the worn grass, screaming as if being tortured.

Her voice trailed away as he reassured her, shrinking into sobs. "Wanda?" He asked, his voice panicky. "Wanda, what's wrong?"

"I- I heard everyone's voices," Her voice was shaky. "They were in my head."

"When was the last time you slept, ate, drank?" Pietro searched for a reason, an explanation, but found none. Meanwhile, Steve vaulted over the half-rotten wooden fence.

"What on earth happened here?" He asked, a mix of terror and wonder on his face. "There was something too fast to see, and Wanda, were you screaming?"

"I - I saw something. I don't feel well, I'm going to sleep." Wanda padded inside, Pietro's jacked slung over her shoulders.

Pietro noticed Steve staring at him oddly. "When did that happen?"

"What?" Pietro was plain confused now.

"Your hair." Steve gestured to the questionable colour choice.

"Nothing's up with my hair." Pietro ran a hand through it; his short curls felt the same in his hands, if in need of a wash.

"Check your reflection," Steve gestured to the nearest window, in which Pietro scrutinised his hairline. He found that a few millimetres of his originally dark auburn hair had now turned bright white.

"What the fuck?" He shouted. "Did someone do this as a prank?"

"Pietro, calm down-"

"Fuck this weird shit! I'm out of here!" Pietro started running, again not aware of the speed he was running at.

Steve was left in an awestruck silence.

* * *

Tony had no shortage of problems to solve.

For a first, the kids from the lower-class school, HYDRA, had forbidden any Xavier's kids from entering the town and built a perimeter around it. Along with that, the food and medicine the school had had before the "Blip" had long run out.

That was why he had called the meeting.

"Bruce, how long will the current medical supplies last us?" Tony gestured to the boy in question.

"Only a few days; less for our diabetics. The town's cut off so we're either going to have to raid it or send out search parties looking for nearby towns." Bruce put his head in his hands.

"Reed, how far is Stonebridge?" Tony asked. Stonebridge was the nearest town to Tamworth, the small town where the two schools resided. "I'm talking on foot here."

Reed sighed. "A few days at best, but there's rivers and fields of bulls and things. Plus, we don't know where the border of this "New FAYZ" is. For all we know, we could do all that walking and come to a blank wall."

"I'll take a few people up and scout out the Bunker through the forest. We'll be back pretty soon." Bruce suggested.

"No, Brucey, you're staying here. These kids need a doctor, even if you haven't got many supplies. The only person not needed in this room is me, and I'll go. Pepper's in charge and that is final." The room broke into nervous conversation.

"Tony, you sure about this?" Rhodey asked, eyes large. "Can't I come, just to make sure you're safe?"

"No, Rhodes, you're staying here. I could use some help packing though." Tony grinned.

He set off later that night with two bags filled with survival tools and a knife strapped to his ankle, no idea what danger lay in the dark, unnaturally still town air.


	6. Chapter 6

"Well, this is nice," Tony sarcastically muttered to himself as he rolled over in the field's grass and dirt. A long, pink tongue lapped at his face. He pushed it away tiredly.

A loud yapping was the response.

"Jarvis?" Tony asked. The dog leapt onto him, attacking his face once again. The teenager found himself giggling. "You're certainly following me now, aren't you?"

Tony turned to the woods, which loomed over the field, meters from his face. "I don't suppose you know the way through, do you? Guess not."

Tony heaved his bags onto his back, picked up a good sized stick for Jarvis, and started on the path he'd found.

The scenery in the forest was pleasant, with bright sunlight peeking through the thick canopy of leaves stretching above his head.

"You want me to throw this again?" Tony asked the seemingly hyperactive dog. "You'll just tire yourself out." He found himself throwing it anyway.

"You lost?" A voice echoed. A boy, tall and muscular with broad shoulders and ruffled dark hair, came running out from behind the trees. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

"I'm actually looking for the bunker. We need insulin for diabetics at the school, and they've only got a day or so's worth left." He offered a hand. "I'm Tony."

The boy chuckled. "Nearly didn't recognise you, Stark. Bucky, if you remember me as much. Steve's friend." Two dogs came to Bucky's heels, one carrying a dirty tennis ball. Tony remembered Bucky well; he had a colourful sense of humour and a great personality. He'd shared English classes with him in Years 8 and 9; the pair had been friends for a while.

"You have dogs too?" Tony asked, trying to shift the conversation. If Bucky didn't let him through, kids would be in danger. Young kids. Bruce had explicitly told him that there were two diabetics in year 7 alone, and that they needed the medicine.

"They're Clint's. There's a shortcut over a bridge to get to the bunker, if you're on a schedule. I'm headed that way, if you want to come."

Tony couldn't believe his luck. "Yes, please, that would be brilliant."

The dogs started running in circles, yapping happily. Bucky chuckled along with them, which fascinated Tony. He'd never gotten to know the American exchange student, but it was nice to know that they both liked dogs. Being his friend would come in useful.

"How come you've not just run off into your ivory tower - well, mansion?" Bucky asked as the dogs quietened down. "Isn't that one of the safest places to be?"

"It's a long drive, and the last FAYZ incident - which I believe is what happened here - was only ten miles in radius, and the house is half an hour's drive away. Plus, I was needed at the school. Leadership and such."

"Why would they send the leader out on some goose chase like this? Surely you had other people to send." Bucky glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Loads of kids are looking after siblings, or doing important jobs like looking for food and insulating the rooms. Bruce and Helen are heading the nurse's office, so they're not really expendable. I don't have any siblings and Pepper is better at running things than I am." Bucky picked up on how Tony's voice deflated throughout the small speech. Clearly he didn't value himself.

"Well, you got everyone organised, which is more than any of us here have done," Bucky said, leaping over a fallen tree and calling for the dogs to follow. "Sam and Steve should be in the clearing, it's not far from the bridge. Hey, here it is."

The bridge was concrete, with the iron supports sticking out where the material had worn away. Water rushed under it, swift and strong. If Tony fell, there would be no returning, or even climbing out. From what he could see, the banks were too steep to climb.

"Come on," Bucky shouted, already jogging over to the structure, Jarvis and Clint's dogs at his heels. Tony followed, walking beside him.

"So, Stark, how's everything at the school?" Bucky asked as Steve and Sam jogged towards them.

"Pretty okay, if you count the lack of power, water and heating." Tony and Bucky smirked at the sarcasm.

"What is Stark doing here?" Steve didn't hold back his cold stare.

"I'm just trying to help people." Tony returned it, warm brown eyes now dark and intimidating.

"Why do I find that so hard to believe?" Steve hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"Guys, calm down, he's just here for insulin from the bunker." Bucky and Sam separated them.

Steve backed off, turning away quickly and heading downstream.

Sam sighed, rolled his eyes, and followed on light feet.

"I guess I'll be taking you up to the house then," Bucky sighed. "You and Steve never can get on, can you?"

"Hey, don't look at me! He started it." Tony whistled for the dogs to come to him.

"We have insulin in the basement, I'll just grab a torch." Bucky disappeared into the house.

"Hey, you, Stark, right?" Clint came padding over. "Have you seen a guy about this tall, really fierce eyes, pointed jaw? Dark brown hair and stubble?"

Tony shook his head. "No, I haven't seen anyone apart from Rogers, Wilson and Barnes."

Clint cursed under his breath. "Well, if you see him, tell him that Wanda and Clint are looking for him." The boy melded back into the forest.

"Hey, got the torch, you should head down into the basement." Bucky tossed the item at Tony, who caught it one-handed, and pointed to the hatch on the floor of the hallway.

Inside, the air was musky and dark, with a strong smell of flour - was that flour? - filling Tony's nose. He stepped off the ladder too quickly and for a moment was suspended in midair before his head slammed into something solid. The loud smacking sound was the last thing Tony heard.


	7. Chapter 7

In the lone patch of shade, beneath a great oak tree watching the town from afar, forces yet unknown worked, creating a body, a being, as their master commanded them, manipulating the metal, the plastic, and the energy required to build such a being.

The creator, as he had entitled himself once creating the sphere, grinned as his creation whirred and clicked, being built to his design before the creator's very eyes. Metal was pulled into long, almost muscle-like strips, and placed in a delicately designed method to create the first of his challenges. He had waited years, building materials and resources before it could begin: His rise to power.

As the creation lay, dormant, the creator turned his attention to the Maximoff children. They were in pain, as every person going through a rapid mutation was, and he knew they had to survive. Wanda, in particular, could become a challenge.

After all, the creator thought to himself, evolution has to continue. Every time the dust settles, god throws a stone at it. And believe me, I'm winding up.

He laughed, setting aside the forces he had used to create the being. Leaning over, he took it in. His design was beautiful, sharply finished and perfectly built. His robot, as he called it, would aid him in finding the last of them. With all five, he would be unstoppable.

Leaning down, the creator opened up the mind of his creation and spoke a single sentence: "Peace in our time."

He turned and sank back down, through the ground as he had learned to, and retired to his lair to watch the events unfold. This was going to be interesting, he thought.

* * *

He woke up in darkness and in cold, but not in pain. He was still and peaceful. Twitching his fingers instinctively, he determined that he was lying down, and not strapped down. He searched his mind for memories, and found nothing apart from a single line of speech. He somehow knew it is his creator's voice, and the message resonated through his mind.

 _Peace in our time._

The light was blinding, burning into his eyes. The person - was he a person? - rose, twitching the fingers he had been given. Given by something, someone. He did not know who.

He tapped a finger against the ground, curious. It caught on a pebble and makes a sonorous, high-pitched clang. He pushed his finger down with more force and the pebble cracked underneath the weight. This brought a grin to his features, or at least, it felt like a grin.

He did not have a name, and his gender was only in his mind. He had one message, pounding through his head like a siren's wail.

 _Peace in our time._

The air was hot and dry, with particles of dust being lifted by hot winds. They whipped at his face, and he instinctively lifted a hand to deflect them. The sun was hot, warming the surface of his body, but it felt somewhat artificial. Filtered, almost.

The view is beautiful, with rolling, plain hills and dark forests to border them. In the distance stands a town, with old-fashioned, broken-down buildings and a large, castle-like structure watching over it.

 _Peace in our time._

There is no peace here, only war, fear and terror. He saw the dome in the background, arching into the sky and blurring everything outside it. He couldn't see beyond the wall. Outside the wall, it was probably worse. He could at least gain and maintain peace inside the sphere.

Inside his head, the voice resonated, genderless, cold and steadfast. He tried to remember anything from before he woke up, but nothing came apart from the voice.

He stood, thinking, the cogs that build his metal mind turning and racing in a quick, melodic series of clicks and whirrs. He took in his being; unnatural, made without the warm, reassuring heartbeat that humans have.

His body was tall, lean and long, with thick limbs that hum with an energy given to him by... he didn't know. He had no idea who he was created by, and when, but only a rough idea of why. He felt like he should be scared, but wasn't.

The being that created him declined to formally introduce him or herself, if they had a gender. He is not a human creation, as the little information about the world his creator allowed him shows that his body, and the technology it contains, is hundreds of years beyond that any homo sapien can dream up.

So he padded down the hill, his stable, large feet working efficiently in the long grass. He did not know how he looked, how his face - is it a face? - was structured. He had faith in his creator, and knew that the intelligent being that created him would not let any weaknesses slip through.

He spoke to himself, a human habit. Perhaps, then, a human had indeed created him. His voice started out hoarse, barely a whisper as he got used to the idea of speaking. "I... I am..." He paused, coughed, and was surprised at how clearly he could speak now.

"I am..." He kept on returning to the question of his identity. He needed a name, and one that suited him. Before that, however, he would learn how he sounded.

His voice was dark, and robotic, moreso than he predicted. He decided that he likes it more this way, as it is menacing and hopefully will scare whoever he speaks to. "I am... " He drifted off. He did not have a name, and it was likely up to him to make one. One stood out more than others, and he chose something menacing, a title meant to to send fear into the hearts of his enemies. He planned to make lots of enemies. He'd have to, in order to create the peace he was designed for.

"I am Ultron."


	8. Chapter 8

Tony woke up with an aching head. He lifted a hand to his forehead and found bandages. He groaned, leaning forward and applying intense pressure to the pain in a halfhearted attempt to stop the throbbing of his head.

"If you move that around much more, you're going to tear your stitches," A voice said, bringing fear out of Tony. Where was he?

It was Steve, sitting in the corner and sorting through medicines and antibiotics. He had a pile of what Tony believed to be insulin on his left and the other medicines being sorted on the right.

"Didn't know you cared." Tony retorted, lying back and groaning at how stiff his limbs were.

"Some people are just nice to others." Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. "Maybe you should try it."

"Maybe you should grow a brain, and some manners while you're at it."

"If you guys kill each other, I'm not cleaning it up," Bucky shouted from through the door. It sounded like he was eating something.

Steve rolled his eyes again. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. From what Sam said, you'll be here for a few days at least, so we may as well have a temporary truce."

Tony looked at Steve's extended hand uncertainly for a while, before taking and shaking it.

"Alright," Tony sighed, giving up. Shame, really. He had thought up some great lines and he wouldn't get to use them now.

"I'm going to go get food, you want some? It's not like you can walk around to get some." Tony knew a peace offering when he saw one.

"Yeah, sure. I'll take over sorting the meds." Tony slowly came to his feet - his spine ached unbelievably, sending shooting pains all through his body. He staggered and fell for a bit, before Steve grabbed his shoulder.

"Yeah, I wouldn't try walking for a while." Steve muttered, awkwardly removing his hand. Tony flicked an eyebrow up.

"I'd figured that much," He replied as Steve walked out. Tony sat, legs crossed in an awkward, stiff position, and began to sort through the medicine. Insulin over here, penicillin over there, paracetamol over there...

Once he had finished sorting through the medicine, Tony took in the room he'd been left in. There were two twin beds, one of which he had woken up in. He assumed the other was Steve's, as it had been made military-style.

There was a knock at the door. It swung open and revealed Bucky.

"You ok?" The boy asked, handing Tony a paper plate with scrambled egg on it. "Everyone's eating in here, if you wanna come through."

Tony thought for a moment and nodded. If he was going to be in this house for a while, he needed to befriend the inhabitants. He already had Bucky on his side, he hoped, and Steve might not take long.

He just hoped everyone was holding up okay at the school. Contrary to popular belief, he did care - and he was worried about those kids.

"Yeah, I'll be right through," Tony took a moment to straighten out his hair, run a hand over his face and smoothen down his clothes. He didn't have to look like a slob.

He found his phone in his pocket and checked the time and date.

 _10:33, Wednesday._

He'd been gone for nearly a whole day! If he didn't get the insulin back by Friday, there would be problems at school. Besides, he wanted to make sure everything was still in order.

"Hey, everyone, come sit down," Natasha called, placing plates of microwaved perishables on the main table. There had only been three chairs in the beginning but Clint and Sam had gone out and cut large sections of logs and hollowed the underneath to make them lighter, as to avoid going through the floor into the basement. It had taken them nearly three days, but the group now had each gotten a chair - even if they weren't all the same size and some rocked because of impurities in the wood. Steve brought his plate over, impressed with the work that Sam and Clint had done.

"I'm gonna start a fire, it's cold as hell in here," Bucky piped up, hopping out of the front door and coming back waving two pieces of roughly chopped lumber. Before disappearing into the woods, Pietro had brought an old, somewhat rusty axe up from the basement.

"He ate all that already?" Clint asked through a mouthful of macgyver-style pancake.

Bucky nodded, grinning maniacally. Tony decided he liked Bucky; the guy seemed to be on his wavelength. Meanwhile, Tony turned his attention to wolfing down the slightly dry pancakes and eggs as a topping. As the eggs would expire first yet were disgusting when eaten alone for three meals a day, each of the house had taken a turn preparing them a different way each meal. For today's breakfast slash lunch, the "crew", as Bucky had affectionately nicknamed them, were eating fried eggs (again) with some slightly overcooked basic pancakes.

Inside, Wanda noted, the house was becoming warm and vibrant again. She had holiday memories from here, times spent with her father, Pietro and two others - Charles and Raven, their father called them - during the christmases, watching snow fall onto the distant Xavier mansion. With the fire roaring and happy speech filling the room, it almost felt like home again.

But there was something wrong. There was a hole in the space, a silence in the noise. Wanda felt it next to her, following her around in the place of the person who had once occupied it. It was her brother; he hadn't returned since running off, that horrible day when they had been in pain together.

Wanda sat and chewed thoughtfully, setting herself a goal. Tomorrow, she would bring her brother home.

A niggling, irritating voice disagreed. The voice told her things she didn't want to hear.

 _He's dead, Wanda._


	9. Chapter 9

Pietro woke up in the middle of a field, surrounded by the hum of crickets and the dank, humid night air. Looking up, the sky was a dark maroon colour, flecked with slightly blurred scars. There was a thin, almost invisible sliver of silver as a moon above him. The trees that surrounded Pietro looked beautiful in the light, black and dark against the wine-coloured backdrop. He hadn't seen such a beautiful evening sky in a while. The soft reds and crimson hues reminded him of his sister. He sighed softly, before realising.

 _Wanda._

Cold, dreading panic flooded his system. He hadn't seen Wanda in nearly a day. Was she alright? In his rush, Pietro leapt to his feet, realising that he was no longer in pain, and sprinted down the nearest path he found. He hoped it lead to the house - he could only hope.

Pietro found that it didn't lead him to the house, but to the river that ran past it - from what he could see, the house would be downstream. The river itself was oddly idyllic - in the dark, hazy red air, it looked fascinatingly like blood. Pietro shook his head to clear the image and started running downstream.

Soon, a bonfire appeared in between the dark trees, and Pietro picked up the pace, not caring how the wind whistled in his ears unlike normal or how the trees blurred at his sides. He found it difficult to stop running, nearly toppling over into the flame and sending noise through his friends.

"What the hell, man?" Clint piped up. "You just teleported in here!"

"Pietro, are you alright? Where have you been?" Pietro recognised the redhead's calm tone.

He barely had time to form an answer before his sister's familiar arms wrapped around him in a bone-breaking hug.

"I thought you were dead!" She hissed as he tried to wriggle away, bringing up guilt. He hadn't meant to worry her.

Pietro turned uncomfortably, trying to make eye contact with his sister. "Are you still in pain?"

"No, you?" She asked, and Pietro responded by shaking his head. Steve had gotten to his feet, offering Pietro an odd-looking plate of eggs.

"We're eating the perishables first, and that means eggs. You look hungry." Pietro nodded eagerly, stuffing his face almost as soon as he had sat down.

"What on earth was that? Where did you learn to run so fast?" Wanda whispered to him as conversation resumed. Pietro made out that he had no idea what she was talking about, but inside, he had some doubts himself. What if being in the dome had messed him up, given him abilities? He sure hoped it had, as that sounded cool - so long as he survived, of course.

But what about Wanda? She seemed okay, if a little quiet. He assumed she was just reeling from it all.

There was a guy there he didn't recognize - small, dark-haired, and sarcastic. After joining in with his conversation with Bucky, Pietro decided that the guy was pretty cool. He learned that his name was Tony.

"So Pietro, how come I've never heard of you before?" Tony asked, taking a sip from one of the red plastic cups the group had hoarded from the store. They'd chosen cutlery that wouldn't require washing up, as they didn't have much soap and water to spare.

"I was supposed to be new," Pietro said, tipping his head back and swallowing. The water was slightly coppery in taste; he wasn't used to drinking filtered river water. He supposed that life wasn't so bad now; at least he had some friends outside of his family. That was indeed a first. He couldn't shake the odd feeling of impending doom, however.

* * *

"Reed, what's going on?" Bruce stared, horrified, as Reed's gang broke into the busy "doctor's office" that he had set up in Tony's absence. Each of them carried knives, smiling cruelly. Bruce made an expression asking for an explanation.

"We're taking over here, and leaving. Stark doesn't think long-term; we never could have survived up in this wretched school and he knew it. He went into the town, turned them against us, and high-tailed it off into his own private safehouse!" Reed growled. He was practically glowing with anger.

Bruce raised both hands hesitantly, nerves kicking in. He hated high-stress situations.

"Look, you guys are gonna have to take this violence else-" He was broken from his sentence as knuckles swung into his face like a brick, sending him back against the desk and nearly onto the floor.

Reed snarled down at him. "If you're not going to take our side, you'd better run along and find Stark."

Bruce tried to open his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. A sudden, somewhat painful, but mostly weird, feeling filled his limbs, and he felt his gaze rise without standing. Reed backed up in fear, terror etched into his features like Bruce had never seen before.

He tried to speak again, to tell him to leave, but only a bone-chilling roar left his mouth. Bruce hurriedly looked down, and in the place of his nimble, calloused pale hands, were giant, muscled green paws. He gasped and stumbled backwards, his other presumably identical hand reaching for the wall to balance on - but his arm, now at least three times normal in diameter, went straight through it. Sunlight dug into his irises, drawing out another roar, before he jumped away.

"Let's get down to the robot freak," Storm hissed. "He'll be able to take anything that _hulk_ throws at him. Besides, he'll probably die off quickly. Mutations like that can't last."

Reed snarled and raised the hand-held communicator he had been given. "Ultron? Whatever your name is, we've got bad news. Another enhanced his heading your way, and fast."


	10. Chapter 10

"Hnngh," Bruce made an odd mixture of a grunt and a groan as he rolled over. He realised quickly that he was no longer in the spare, half-rotted cot that inhabited the nurse's office - it was too unsteady for a patient but his still sleeping frame had adjusted to it slowly. Instead, he had slept at an odd angle, his back and limbs wet from the dew in the grass. Bruce realised quickly that he was naked aside from the very ripped, stretched trousers and a few tatters of fabric.

He looked down at his body, expecting to find a green, hulking mass - but thankfully all that remained was his regular body, if a little tired and bruised. He rubbed his now-normal hands over his now-normal face - he hoped to god that he hadn't hurt anybody. From the memories, it had looked like he'd turned into a whirlwind of destruction.

A whole wall had been ripped out of the castle, leaving a cringe-worthy hulk-shaped hole. That's what Bruce had subconsciously nicknamed "the other guy" - and he could still feel that other person, formed of rage and anger, sitting and lurking in the back of his mind.

Bruce wrapped the sheet closer around his skinny hips and started walking, finding a small but worn path. He was enjoying the scenery when-

The ground fell from beneath his feet and sour, cold water filled his mouth, nose and ears. Everything went black in seconds.

* * *

"Steve!" Bucky shouted. "Can I borrow your strength?"

It had become commonplace for Steve to do most heavy lifting around the house, as he was the strongest and had some pretty steady hands. He jogged over, dropping the hammer and nail he'd been patching a corner with.

"What's wrong, Buck?" He asked, following his gaze to the riverbank. A guy, presumably, about Tony's height, scrawny and shirtless, lay drenched and coated with a fine layer of sand. Steve instantly leapt down and started helping lift him.

"Geez, this guy is a lot heavier than he looks," Steve grunted, heaving his damp form over his shoulder.

Bucky sighed, helping Steve keep his balance. "We may as well set up a hotel with the amount of people that keep turning up around here. Steve laughed.

Tony came hobbling over, still not completely good on his feet. When he'd fallen, he'd badly bruised his ankle, and Clint, who was full of weird medical knowledge, had set it so that he could walk.

"Hey, is that Bruce?" Tony gasped, eyes like saucepans. "Why is he shirtless and covered in river water?"

"You know this guy?" Steve said, setting him down on dry grass. "Oh right, you're friends, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Tony muttered absentmindedly, shaking Bruce's head slightly. "Brucey, you in there?"

Bruce groaned and tried to roll over, before coughing up a mouthful of river water, wincing at the taste.

"Can I please stay awake and human for more than two hours today?" He groaned, bringing confused expressions from the others.

"Human?" Bucky asked in surprise.

Bruce nodded and sat back, resting his head on the grass and letting his arms flop to his sides. "It's a long story. God, what I wouldn't give to lie here for a while right now."

"Bruce, you okay?" Tony asked, helping him sit up. "Why the fuck where you in the river?"

"Language," Steve muttered, smiling. It had become an affectionate joke between Steve and Tony over the last day. Tony, as he was in constant pain, was usually being watched by Steve in case anything happened. Nobody was particularly well trained in medicine, so the best course of action was just to keep Tony under surveillance until he was able to run again.

"I was -" Bruce grabbed his forehead with one hand as he stood, the others holding his stretched trousers around his waist. "Oh god, Reed's-"

Tony slipped an arm under his friend's shoulder, and with the help of Steve, carried Bruce up to the room Tony had spent the last day in. Inside, Tony threw in some loose-fitting clothes for Bruce to change into.

"So what exactly is happening down in the town?" Steve asked Tony as Bruce changed.

Tony sighed, folding his arms. "Last I was there, Bruce and Helen were acting doctors and everyone was helping set up a base for the kids at the school, as the town's been blocked off by the other school's kids. I came up here looking for insulin, as I was expendable - but god knows things must be dire for Bruce to hightail it."

Bruce exited the room, awkwardly rubbing his hands together. Tony didn't even let him close the door before he started questioning. "Bruce, what happened at Xavier's?"

Bruce swallowed and knotted his fingers together. "Reed's taken over, and violently. He struck up some deal with a leader in the town and he's taken everything and everyone who agrees with him. Anyone else was left for dead. I got mad, and... "

Tony and Steve made identical gestures for him to continue. If it had been any other situation, Bruce would have found it amusing.

"I kind of - I don't know, mutated when I got mad. Went all green and big. If you want proof, go to the nearest hill and take a good long look at the school - there's a big hole in the west hall. Anyway, Reed and his followers are long gone. I was angry and ran, didn't really care where. Woke up and started wandering this morning, but I only fell into a river."

"So that's three mutants in the last few days?" Natasha called from over by the fridge. Sam and Clint, or as everyone called them, the DIY duo, had set up a hydroelectric water wheel-style generator in the nearby river. It didn't make a lot of power; just enough to run a few lightbulbs and a low-powered fridge. Wifi, heating and the electric oven were far from working.

"I don't follow," Bruce spoke up. "What do you mean by mutant?"


	11. Chapter 11

Tony turned back to Bruce, his mouth twisted into a half-smirk, one half lax, the other held taught in an odd asymmetrical expression, as it often was when Tony was thinking. "The Maximoffs, you know the two kids that we were telling you about on Friday? Well, Pietro's started running like a bullet and Wanda can move things. Without touching them."

Bruce stared at Tony in astonishment. "You think-"

"There's more of them? Definitely. And I think that one of them is in power in town - that's why everyone is obeying him. Nothing short of superpowers would make Reed sway." The cogs in Tony's brain started to turn and whistle.

"No, Tony, you should'a seen him," Bruce sounded odd - sad, almost. "There was no doubt in his eyes. If I'd have disagreed and not mutated? He'd have slit my throat, and I'll tell you that for nothing."

"I'm not giving up on Reed. He's a good guy, if a little rough around the edges. It can't have been him. His mind-" Tony was rambling now, and probably out of worry. If they'd been prepared to kill Bruce, how many had they killed?

Steve sighed, his thick blonde eyebrows knitting together, as Tony had noticed they did when he was thinking. "Well, once you're both in good enough shape to walk that far, we'll head down and see what's happening." He said, ever the voice of reason.

"Well, I'll be pretty okay once I warm up, but why is Tony being held here?" Bruce asked, flicking an eyebrow up.

"Umm, I was going into the basement to go grab the medicine they have in the house... I kinda slipped and hit my head and ankle. Bad."

Bruce rolled his eyes, sighing. "Only you, Tony."

"Yeah, it's wonderful to stand here all day, but breakfast's ready." Clint shouted up.

"Let me guess, eggs again," Tony had had enough of the things to last him a lifetime, and he'd only been eating them for half the time the others had.

Steve groaned, a grin seeping onto his face.

"What's wrong with eggs?"

"Soon, Bruce, you will realise."

The meal was made considerably more interesting by the very heated eating contest Pietro and Clint were partaking in. Halfway through, Bucky leaned over to Natasha and made a bet that Pietro and Clint would be together by the end of the week.

Natasha smirked and leaned back so that she could reply. "I'll also wager that Stark and Rogers get it on, too."

Bucky nearly choked on his eggs, laughing. If he was truly honest, it would be preferable to eating them. Thank god there were only a few boxes left.

* * *

"What do you mean, you ran?" The voice hissed. "You'll never lead well if you can't even contain people and make them submit."

Reed frowned, clenching his fists. "I don't need to take orders from you or your 'creator'. You're the weak one here. Why don't you just wait until you're strong enough to lead?"

The red eyes shifted from the larger body they were working on to stare into Reed. "Because if I reveal myself now, there is a chance for me to become weak. You will act as my figurehead, my swift and terrible sword. Then, once I am invulnerable, I will reveal myself and take over completely."

"Why not just take over then?" Reed's expression resembled indignance.

The red eyes rolled in their robotic sockets. "Because conflict and having to fight to the top will only waste time. Having you as a representative from the beginning, and amassing power from the start, means that taking the metaphorical throne will be much easier. Then everyone can... survive."

Reed's anger quickly dissipated, boredom and tiredness replacing it. "Whatever, man. I'm going to go make sure everything is runnning well."

"You've nearly got the hang of it." The robotic voice called after him.

"Whatever!" Reed shouted back as he exited the warehouse. God, the sooner he was done with that thing, the better.

"Reed," Susan gasped, approaching the second he was out in open air. "Ben's gone missing, we need your help to look for him. What were you doing in that empty warehouse?"

"Oh, I was just seeing if anything of use was in there," Reed awkwardly tried to stop her from going in. "There's just some old machinery that could fall down. It's not very safe."

"Oh, okay. Well, Johnny and Helen have gone to look up by Xavier's, so we should go check the housing estate," Susan soon led Reed off. Man, he hated lying to his friends.

* * *

Wanda sat, kneeling in her and Pietro's room, two empty cans of beans in front of her, resting on the wooden floorboards. As Pietro and Wanda owned the house, they got first pick of the rooms, and had chosen the penthouse; the biggest room, nearly a whole floor, with its own bathtub.

Wanda stared into the cans, her eyes almost burning through them. She focused, and focused, clearing the rest of her loud, rambunctious mind.

The can creaked, tipped, balanced on its edge, and fell back down, flat. Wanda grinned at what she had managed to do. All she'd managed so far was vibrating things and making pens move. If she could learn to move an empty can, she could learn to move a full one. If she could learn to move a full can, she could learn to carry multiple cans back and forth, and eventually lift huge things.

Wanda leaned forward, crossing her hands and focusing anger into the can. Anger at her father for leaving, anger at her brother for leaving, anger at the FAYZ 2. There was a lot of rage stored inside her and from what she had seen, emotion was the best way to use her gift.

The can tore into pieces and violently shattered across the room.


	12. Chapter 12

"Tony, are you absolutely sure you can walk on it?" Steve stared at Tony's swollen ankle as he balanced precariously on the other one.

"Yeah, it'll be fine, I can barely feel a thing," Tony lied. In reality, his ankle was quite painful, but the sooner he got back to the town, the better. He needed to talk to Reed, desperately.

"Fine. Walk over to the kitchen." Bruce gestured to the kitchen counter on the other side of the downstairs floor, which Pietro was cleaning. He had the weirdest quirks.

"Alright," Tony braced himself and placed weight on the ankle. It hurt at first, but as he lifted the other foot to move, the pain plateaued, and wasn't too intense. Tony breathed a heavy sigh of relief and took another few anxious steps. It was the first time since falling that he had been able to walk without a stick/crutch.

"Tony? Why haven't you got a crutch?" Pietro asked as he put the almost-empty bottle of cleaning fluid underneath the sink.

"I can walk now, apparently," Tony grinned sarcastically, throwing a glance back to Bruce. "Doctor's orders, right?"

Bruce nodded, smiling. It was comforting to know that Tony hadn't broken his ankle or worse. He didn't want to be put under the pressure to repair a torn achilles tendon or mend a broken bone. He was fine with antibiotics and sprained muscles, thanks.

"Cool. I'm gonna go check on Wanda." Pietro disappeared in a flash of blue-white. His hair, which had now grown down to about his ears (seriously, that stuff grew like bamboo) was bright, almost bleached white. He'd have to ask to borrow Wanda's scissors to trim it.

His feet hit the stairs quickly, with very little space or time in between; the sound of Pietro ascending stairs was more like a humming noise than the thud-thud-thud of someone like Steve.

Wanda was sitting in front of a large, slightly worn-down mirror in the spacious if dusty attic, a hairbrush hovering over her hair. She was staring at the reflection of the hairbrush, her eyes nearly burning through it.

Pietro sat on the dusty lower bunk bed (this attic needed cleaning, he mentally noted) and watched silently, not wanting to distract her. The wooden brush slowly made contact with her scalp, before slowly running its bristles through the length of Wanda's waist-length brown hair. Fortunately, hers hadn't turned white, too.

"That's incredible," Pietro spoke up once Wanda had brushed her hair five or six times, growing more confident with each stroke.

"I tried to move the can," Wanda confessed, pointing to the pile of torn tin on the floor about a metre from her. "But it just tore into pieces."

Pietro scooped a piece up to look at it; the metal was torn roughly, with jagged spikes on every edge. He whistled in wonder at it, commenting on how cool it was.

Wanda chuckled. "It's not going to be very cool if I accidentally tear a door from its hinges."

"I don't know, from what I've seen, Clint is the DIY king." Wanda rolled her eyes at that. Pietro had become close friends with Clint, and the two were forever poking at each other; Pietro running rings around Clint to annoy him, and Clint calling him Sonic the Hedgehog in response.

"I'm going to go out and practise on something heavier," Wanda said excitedly. "Do you know where the firewood is kept?"

Pietro grinned.

* * *

"Woah, Sam, come check this out," Clint shouted. He and Sam had been working on finding a way across the river that ran next to the house. Nobody apart from Bucky was willing to risk going over the crumbling concrete bridge downstream, so up until now, the group had just waded through the calf-height cold water. The river was shallow near the house, but Sam and Clint, or as Pietro called them, the DIY Duo, were looking and exploring to see if there was a more stable bridge upstream.

"What, did you find one?" Sam panted, climbing up the slope and batting holly out of his eyes.

"No, but check this out," Clint was clearly excited, and Sam couldn't help but groan. Clint was like a magnet for weird things.

The structure was certainly weird; a small lean-to, built of vine and tree branches, with an array of odd-looking plants inside, and long, thin sticks inside a trunk-like container at the back. Ivy was draped over the whole thing; it looked like the strange tents that American hunters used.

"Woaaah, get a load of this!" Clint held up a thick, light-coloured wooden bow, and drew the string back instinctively. To avoid damaging it, he slowly released the pressure.

"There's arrows over here," Sam held up one. It looked primitive, but was sturdy and no doubt lethal. The arrow was the length of his arm, with striped grey feathers tied onto the end, and a notch carved into the base. It was presumably how the arrow stayed on the bowstring. At the other end was a carefully-made, dark purple arrowhead. It looked to be made out of a light flint-like material, and reflected light from the many small facets carved onto its surface. Sam tapped the very tip against his finger and noticed that a dark, blood-like liquid seeped out. Upon closer inspection, the arrowhead was hollowed out in the centre and contained what they both agreed to be poison or venom of some sort. It was cleverly designed, so that it wasn't visibly different to a regular arrowhead, and didn't release the venom/poison concoction unless in contact with the target.

"This stuff is hardcore," Clint counted at least twenty poison arrows, and god knows how many regular ones. He was pretty sure that when fired correctly, the non-poisoned arrows could easily kill.

"Let's get this stuff back to the house, who knows what it's for. Maybe one of them has some idea what it is or who it belongs to." Sam suggested, lifting up a handful of dried herbs. They were unlike any he'd seen before.

From high up in the canopy, fascinated by their behaviour, the builder of the shelter watched on.


	13. Chapter 13

"Well, they were certainly made by someone very skilled," Bruce said, admiring the arrow he held. "This one could easily split bone, and you'd have a tough time pulling it back out."

"Yeah, but who would go to the trouble of making these? Clearly they took more than a week to make." Steve speculated, frowning at the short, blunt black blade that he'd found inside the box of arrows. "And are you sure they won't be mad for us taking them?"

"Whoever built the place didn't seem to care that much, it wasn't locked up or anything." Sam shrugged. "If they wanted to keep it secret, they would have carried it with them and not left it in effectively a pile of sticks and vines."

"Hmm, I'm going to go out and test the bow," Clint grinned. "Anyone wanna come?"

Pietro and Sam rose, grinning. Clint led them outside, much to the protest of Natasha and Wanda, who both saw that it was likely Clint would injure himself and at least two others.

Clint nocked the arrow and lifted the bow, drawing the string and aiming. He fired the arrow into the centre of the nearest tree trunk, hitting with incredible accuracy.

"Holy-" Pietro started, not at all expecting this.

Clint grinned and loaded another arrow, aiming for a further tree. Of course, it hit dead-centre, again. "I've been taking archery classes for a while."

Sam just rolled his eyes, muttering something about Clint having weird talents. The archer just responded by taking another shot at an even further tree; he hit of course.

Pietro soon decided to experiment. He had a theory that he was fast enough to catch a bullet, but as there were no guns around, he'd have to settle for the next best thing.

As Clint pulled back the drawstring, Pietro leapt. The world was plunged into slow motion, silent and slow, as the arrow came gliding through the air. He easily leaned forward and closed his fingers around the long, smooth shaft, twisting the arrow off course and turning it back around, holding it at his hip.

Clint's face was hilarious. One eyebrow raised, mouth half open, eyes not able to decide between staring at the now-still arrow and Pietro's smug smirk.

"You're gonna end up skewered!" Bucky's voice sounded from somewhere. The others broke into shocked muttering, some hyped about the cool powers some had started to display.

Meanwhile, Wanda slunk off downstream, nervously sprinting over the unsteady bridge, and heading off into the woods. She had intended to go and practise, so she would.

Wanda found a large hunk of firewood pretty quickly; no doubt Steve or whoever had chopped it hadn't taken enough care when carrying it back to the house. She sat it in front of her and kneeled, surrounded by a protective layer of branches.

Wanda focused, rage and fear quickly filling her mind. She noticed a red haze surrounding the wood - almost mist-like, it swirled and made beautiful crimson patterns.

Closing her eyes, she focused on tearing the thing apart. When she opened her eyes, a large crack had appeared across the top, but the wood was still largely whole.

Closing her eyes again, Wanda focused. And focused. And focused.

Opening them again, she saw that the crack was bigger, but nowhere as big as the giant split she wanted to create.

This time, when closing her eyes, she lifted her hands, making both of them into fists, outstretched towards the wood. Now, she ripped the fists from each other, swinging her arms to her sides. A loud, almost earsplitting crack followed.

The wood had been torn cleanly into two pieces, both of which were hovering around her fists, shrouded in a thicker form of the 'red mist', as she called it.

Wanda began to make random movements with her hands, keeping them enclosed as fists, and laughed as the hunks of wood followed. She could push them from her, pull them back, rotate them; in all honesty, she doubted there was nothing she couldn't manipulate them into doing.

In a fit of curiosity, Wanda swung one fist and released it as the wood moved, sending it slamming against a tree, where it burst into splinters and left a hefty mark on the tree. She dropped the other wood and ran over to inspect the mark she'd made, but fell and became disoriented.

She rose again, but froze. A large, dark figure was crouching over the intact piece of wood she had dropped in her excitement. Two small, sharp points extended batman-style from the top of the person's head, and their features were obscured by a thick, leathery material that appeared to cover their whole body.

Gold, or at least somewhat gold-coloured claw-shaped pieces of metal formed a tooth-necklace-style pattern around the person's throat and over their shoulders, with an odd-looking silver amulet in the centre, above the joint in the person's rib cage.

Even from such a distance, Wanda knew not to hang around in the presence of the person. He, as his build said he was male, had broad, arching shoulders, with muscles visible through his shirt, and arms to rival Steve's. His legs were long and thick with muscle, no doubt capable of outrunning Wanda. His stance was catlike, with a curved, flexible spine and intense expression.

Wanda felt his heavy gaze on her, contemplating how to proceed. She had some sense of confidence in her abilities and mutation, if it should be titled so, but didn't know anything about him aside from he was far stronger than her and looked more than able to kill.

Wanda gulped, backing away from his still, silent figure. She noticed that on the end of his fingers, long, black, sharp talons curved over, easily sinking into the wood she'd messed around with. No doubt, they'd slice through her flesh easily. As if that wasn't enough, he held a medium length, straight and serrated black blade with the hand not balancing him. The blade was being tossed up into the air and caught perfectly on the handle; he was waiting, and certainly would have no trouble handling the knife.

 _Is this the person who made the bow and arrows?_

Wanda didn't stay to find out.

A/N: Guess who the dark character is? ;)


	14. Chapter 14

Wanda turned and sprinted, dodging trees and branches in a desperate attempt to move faster. It felt like the trees stretched on forever - was Wanda even following the right path?

Suddenly, the flat, cracked concrete of the bridge she was now relieved to see appeared. Beyond it, a dusty clearing, and then at the top of the grassy ridge, the house! Wanda could just make out the silhouettes of her housemates, the tall figure of Steve, the curved bow Clint was holding-

"Pietro!" Wanda screamed as she sprinted, full speed, towards the bridge. Even without turning back, she could sense that the being was following her.

For a split second, she swung around, halfway across the bridge, and stared back. The person wasn't running like she had expected, instead leaping from tree branch to tree branch, the long, dark claws that decorated his fingers meaning that his grip didn't shift a milimetre.

Wanda stumbled backwards, nearly frozen with fear. The assailant was on foot now, stood staring wordlessly at her from the border where the forest met the bridge.

Pietro appeared by her side, no doubt having used his speed. Not even glancing up at the person chasing Wanda, he lifted her bridal-style, and then they both disappeared, much to the confusion of the black-clad assailant.

Pietro ran back up to the safety of the house, placing Wanda down inside on the kitchen side. She had a few cuts on her arm, but they looked to be the result of trees whipping into her.

"What on earth happened? That scream went right through me," Bruce came in, expecting a severe wound. His eyebrows jumped into his shaggy hair once he saw that Wanda was unharmed.

"I saw..." Wanda's accent became thicker with fear, and rung alarm bells in Pietro's head.

"Whatever it was, it must have been terrifying," Pietro commented, stirring the tea he had begun to prepare. Green tea always calmed Wanda down; on a few occasions before the FAYZ, Wanda had lost it, and Pietro was always terrified. Usually, he was the one who was quick to react, even quicker to flee: Wanda was always his rock, keeping him steady and supported. Whenever she was terrified to this extent (he could count the occasions on one hand) he quickly became disoriented and unstable.

"What exactly did you see, Wanda?" Bruce asked, concern freckling his features. If there was something dangerous in the woods, they needed to warn the others.

"There was a man... I think it was a man. He was tall, and strong. He wore black, and I couldn't see his face. His fingers... they were like claws, and he moved like a cat." Wanda shook as she spoke, an incentive for Pietro to hold her until she calmed.

"And what happened?" Bruce was well aware that large, catlike animals did not stalk the forests near their hometown.

"I was practising moving things, and I found some firewood. I sat and managed to crack it, but I had to close my eyes and move my hands to split it in two. I was playing around with moving the pieces when I threw one at the nearest tree, and it broke, so I ran over to see it and left the other half." Wanda's voice was shaky. Pietro remembered very, very few incidents like this.

"I turned around and... it was there, staring at me, hunched over and balanced on the other half of the wood." Wanda closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory. "It had claws, and they looked like black talons. It was completely black apart from some odd metal pieces around its neck. It had _ears,_ Pietro. Ears like a cat."

Bruce sat back, awestruck. "It's certainly nothing I've ever seen. I'm going to go ask around, see if anyone has any idea what it - or he - could be. You stay here and try to calm down; the stress won't be good, especially so soon after mutating like you have."

Wanda nodded sheepishly and watched him leave.

Pietro turned to her.

"Did it chase you?" He asked, handing her the warm mug of tea. Wanda sipped; it tasted very faintly of green tea. She'd have to let it sit for a bit.

"Yes, but it wasn't running. It was leaping, like a big cat. And it made no noise." She shivered at the memory.

Pietro raised an eyebrow. Whatever it was, it sounded creepy.

"I think it's angry at us," Wanda spoke up after a few moments of silence. "We took its bow, or at least, I think we did."

Pietro shook his head. "If it could move like that, and had talons, it wouldn't be able to use or have need for weapons. The bow was probably made by hunting fanatics a while back; they always leave their crap lying around. It said this place used to be a hunting haven before some billionaire bought a bunch of the woods and made them into a reserve."

Wanda nodded, wanting to believe it. "I guess, thanks."

Pietro shrugged. "I'm going to go look at the trees by the edge of the bridge. If it was leaping like that, it would have put a lot of pressure on the branches. Maybe it left some claw marks."

"You seriously think it's a good idea to go out there?" Wanda wanted to shake her brother.

"I'll have Clint and Steve with me, and if it goes south, I can just grab them and run, remember? I don't think he'd try to attack something he can't catch. And besides, we're not here to hurt him; maybe he knows English. If he is a human. It sounded like a human when you described him."

Wanda forced him to keep eye contact. "Promise me you won't do anything too stupid."

Pietro smirked. "You know I won't, Wanda."

With that, he darted off outside to go recruit a confused-looking Clint, and then ran over to Steve, who still wasn't used to the sudden appearances his powers allowed him to make.

Wanda settled in a rickety chair by the window to watch. She had to be sure they were safe.

A/N: Two chapters in one day! :D I think I might be getting addicted to writing


	15. Chapter 15

Bucky, Clint, Steve and Pietro had decided to head into the woods together to try and find the black thing Wanda had been talking about; Pietro because he was curious, like a kitten, Clint had said, Clint because he was good with a bow and could protect everyone, Steve because he was the wisest and best at handling people, and Bucky because he refused to let Steve go anywhere dangerous alone. He and Steve had lived in the same house since childhood; it was unlikely you'd find them far apart now.

Steve chuckled as he remembered the time he and Bucky had wandered off in the garden and been so lost that they thought they'd have to eat ants and build a log cabin to survive - only for Steve to realise the house was in plain sight. He and Bucky had gone on the wildest adventures.

"Guys, there's some claw marks over here," Clint had revealed he was an expert tree climber (seriously, where did all these talents come from?) and had scaled the tree Wanda had described to Pietro. He had found the split chunk of wood, not far off - and damn, Wanda's powers were strong! He'd hate to be on the receiving end of one of these blows.

About four metres to the left, the other large piece of wood sat, innocently staring into the canopy. Pietro picked it up, strained to turn it over, and got an eyeful of where the claws had been. He whistled at the side of them.

 _When Wanda said they were big, she wasn't kidding_ , he thought. He could easily fit the length of his little finger into the claw marks, and this was into wood - what kind of damage could they do to human skin, muscles, tendons, _bone_?

Pietro certainly did not want to be the one to find out. If there was a bad way to die, he'd found it. He turned and found the others.

"I say we head back, and just make sure we're armed somehow when we come around here in future. Hey, Pietro, have you seen Bucky?" Steve shouted as the speedster came backward sliding over. He'd been working on it.

"No, I haven't seen him. Isn't he with you?" Pietro lifted up a cool stick he had found - perhaps Clint's dogs would like it.

"It's fine, he's either back at the house or just messing around," Clint suggested. Bucky liked to jump and scare people.

"Okay, let's head back and check the house then," Steve said. "If he's there, he'll follow. He knows his way around here." Clint could tell that Steve was saying it more to reassure himself than the others. Bucky didn't stray often, and if he did, it wasn't for long. From his time with Bucky, Clint knew that the guy didn't get lost easily.

"Alright." He agreed to calm Steve's nerves, and fortunately, Pietro picked up on it and followed suit.

"Okay."

Steve was very much wrong. Bucky didn't follow.

* * *

Rhodes turned down a street, one that he didn't recognise. After Reed's long, boring speech, which was effectively a longer version of 'I am in charge now, you must obey me', James had decided to go and wander, looking for his missing friend.

"Pepper?" James Rhodes had been wandering the streets all day, looking for his friend. Once Reed had gotten all the Xavier kids he could on his side, he'd led them away in a mad scramble, and James had lost his only remaining friend, Pepper. He hadn't seen Bruce anywhere, and Tony had not returned. With any luck, he was safe in the bunker, doing the smart thing and waiting it out.

"Rhodey?" Pepper was sat in an alleyway, alone and wrapped in a torn blanket she'd found. She was desperately trying to start a fire using some scrap wood she'd pulled from a doorframe. Her face was smudged with dirt and her usually bright ginger hair was dulled with dirt. Her right hand had a small cut on the side, but it was neither deep nor still bleeding.

"Here, let me help," Rhodes knelt in his worn uniform, using his scouts training to swiftly light a fire using two pieces of flint. He sat next to Pepper, who draped the blanket over his shoulders as well to retain more warmth.

"This isn't going to last," Pepper hissed. "Reed's reign, I mean. He's not organising sleeping arrangements, and most houses have been looted and broken into, so there's nowhere safe to sleep inside. Plus, there's already so many kids inhabiting the houses."

"I guess we were late to the party," Rhodes joked, bringing a small smile to Pepper's face. Reed had set up and built a very sturdy perimeter around a few blocks and a bunch of warehouses, and had declared it his republic. Pepper had rolled her eyes when he'd assembled everyone for a speech by the new wall. Anyone who wanted in or out would have to be okayed by Reed himself, and he'd appointed guards to make sure nobody snuck through the wall. Like they'd try; he'd made the thing with torn metal and wrapped it in as much barbed wire as he could get from the local power plant.

It was dark now, and like any other kids who couldn't find a house to stay in, Rhodes and Pepper would have to sleep rough. Rhodes, as an ex-scout, was used to it, but Pepper wasn't, and he didn't want her to have to stay like that for long. Tomorrow, as Pepper slept underneath a flimsy cardboard box, he promised himself that he'd either find a house to stay in, or break them out of the fence.

For now, though, Rhodes just had to wait, watching the blurred stars, and hope that Bruce and Tony, wherever they were, were safe.

A/N: The story will pick up for real soon, I promise ;)


	16. Chapter 16

"Bucky's bound to be lost, I'm going to go search for him," Steve argued.

"No, it's dark and late. You'll only make sure the both of you get lost." Natasha and the others agreed that wandering around in the dark, especially after what Wanda had seen, was a stupid idea.

"Bucky's great with survival and all that. If he can wear the same clothes for a whole week, he can survive a night out there. He's probably found an old house full of dogs and decided he prefers them." Clint twirled a pen in between his fingers. He'd been taking inventory of the basement all day; supplies were beginning to wear down.

"You know where he's headed, don't you?" Pietro piped up, deciding that the concoction they were all eating wasn't for him. "He's pretty smart. He'll head down to the town centre and go find an empty house to spend the night in. You know him."

Steve didn't seem to be all that reassured, but decided to let it go. A few hours couldn't hurt too much, right?

"Alright, but tomorrow I'm heading into town to go look around for him." Steve hoped that he'd be allowed to do that. Even if it meant his friends cared, he did want to look for Bucky.

"I'll head down too. I can walk now, and I need to go slap some sense into Reed." Tony was agreeing, which brought relief to Steve.

"I guess I should head down, too. If it goes south, I can run everybody out." Pietro shrugged, subtly sliding away from the plate of food.

Bruce nodded, volunteering himself forward. Conversation died and everyone returned to eating.

The next morning, they set off.

* * *

"T'Challa, we have located where they are staying." Jakarra spoke up, marching into the leader's camp. His half-brother was busy removing the 'Black Panther' suit, as Shuri had titled it.

The taller boy turned, pulling on a plain burgundy shirt. "Excellent. Have they made any act of violence towards the scouts?"

Jakarra, or Jake, shook his head. "They haven't left the house we tracked them to. We could have found it days ago if you had just crossed that bridge."

T'Challa rolled his eyes. "You try crossing that bridge. I would rather walk over hot coals."

Jake sighed and turned to go speak with the others.

T'Challa began to change his trousers, thinking about what he should do next. He and his brothers, sisters and cousins had been living with their hermit parents since birth, and had not really spoken to anyone from "the outside world". They'd been taught how to hunt and fight en masse, and educated away from society from the comfort of the large manor house hidden away in the middle of the woods the head of the family, T'Chaka. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen anyone who he wasn't related to, and he was pretty sure his brothers and sisters hadn't, either.

As the eldest, T'Challa would always be put in charge whenever the current head of house, T'Chaka, was absent. The head of house was usually called the Black Panther, and wore the traditional attire, based off of what their distant ancestors wore when hunting.

T'Challa had never seen someone so pale and gaunt as the girl he had seen in the woods; all his family had beautiful dark skin, hair and eyes, strong muscles, and none possessed the red powers she had demonstrated.

He had also never seen anyone like the person she called to aid; Pietro, she had shouted. He just appeared, hair even whiter than his skin, and then disappeared, taking the red-clad girl with him.

While T'Challa did have some pretty extreme jumping, leaping and fighting skills, he had never seen anything of that caliber. He'd made the decision not to mention their powers to the others - it would likely scare them, and make Jake thing that attacking was an even better idea. T'Challa had his work cut out trying to convince him to hold fire as it was.

T'Challa exited the tent he'd set up in simple, lightweight clothing. When the Wall came, it had cut them off from their manor and the seniors of the family, but had left them a considerable amount of their home valley to work with. Life was not too different for the Wakanda family.

The others were gathered around a bonfire, cooking lunch. They were talking excitedly. Apparently, the Housemen had found Shuri's bow and arrows, which was exciting them.

"Do you think they know how to shoot?" Hunter was chuckling at the idea of someone trying to use Shuri's bow. It was famously hard to hold and use; even T'Challa had difficulty with it.

"Hey," T'Challa called, running. He sat beside the fire and listened to the others as the creatures someone had brought in roasted over the flames.

He couldn't help but think about the red mist the girl had summoned, and where it came from. He was curious, like a cat, as Hunter would say.

He wanted to return, speak with the two he had seen, and learn about their abilities. His training and tactics, however, told him to wait. If he disappeared for long enough, the one who had seen him would begin to doubt that he really existed, and would think him a hallucination.

He decided to return in a week or so, and spectate from the trees until then. He'd figure out these new people, and then he would tell his family.

* * *

"Tony, my friend," Reed smirked confidently, padding from the gate in the makeshift wall and over to the group of newcomers. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'll-" Tony was about to spit a sassy one-liner, but a hand covered his mouth. Reed's friends were attacking Tony's group! He tried desperately to shout to Bruce that now would be a great time to go green, but his lungs screamed for air and his vision faded.


	17. Chapter 17

"Tony woke up in a cold room. It was dark, and he felt the dull warmth of two people on either side of him as he lay in the dust.

Sitting up and trying not to wake his evidently sleeping friends, Tony surveyed the room. It was dark, with open bars on one side, and a small window on the others.

"Did they put us in the fucking town police station?" Tony hissed quietly to himself. He had been in this building twice before, and he still didn't like it. He saw the faint silhouettes of Steve, Bruce and Pietro on the floor next to him.

Reed had put them all in the same cell because he knew Bruce could hulk out and break out of the cell, but he wouldn't do it with others in the room, especially if they were friends. Tony had to hand it to Reed there, as it was smart thinking.

He patted his pockets down; empty. Reed's group had taken everything from him, and presumably the others, too.

They could try and get Pepper or Rhodey to break them out, assuming they hadn't been killed or escaped themselves.

Tony could try and find other 'prisoners' and organise an escape plan with them.

His mind reeled at all the possibilities.

Tony tried to think his way out, when he realised something.

 _The knife on his ankle was still there._

On the night he'd left the school originally, Tony had strapped a small blade to his ankle in case a dog tried to attack him or something. He'd just left it on there for the last few days as he hadn't exactly had the chance to shower or change. He slipped a hand down to the ankle, praying that it was still there. He nearly cheered when his fingers closed around the small, flat blade.

Beside him, Steve stirred, waking up with a stretch and a surprisingly high-pitched yawn.

Tony chuckled, and earned a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Your yawns are really high-pitched," Tony joked, flicking the knife in between his fingers. Steve frowned, his eyebrows knitting together again as he realised where he was.

"Did Reed put us in here?" Tony nodded confirmation. There was nobody around, so Steve and Tony silently decided to work quickly.

"I think I have an idea, but I'll need your strength." Tony gestured to the window, where Steve stepped over. "You see the bolts on that window?"

Steve didn't have to jump to view the outside; it led into the streets, and they'd have to cross the Reed Republic (god, that sounded stupid, he thought) and then sneak out of the wall. They could stop by the DIY store and grab some wire cutters to help with cutting through the wall and escaping.

"Alright, take this," Tony handed Steve the knife. "Stick it in the bolts holding the window in place and twist. They should come loose."

The bolts were screwed in tighter than Steve thought they would be, but with the force he put into twisting the knife, soon the first bolt was unscrewing. It hit the floor with a soft tap, and Steve went on to work on the second one.

"Keep an eye out, someone might come by," Steve whispered to Tony, who at this point was doing little more than watch. The shorter boy nodded and leaned against the bars, eyes wide and dark, scanning the gloomy, unlit prison cells.

"The second bolt's out," Steve whispered. "I think I can wrench it past the other two."

He braced himself and pulled, but very little movement occurred. Tony shook his head.

"It'd be best to get the other one off, then we can use the last screw to keep the window attached. Once we're out, we can swing it back into place and they won't be able to tell where we went at first sight." Steve rolled his eyes at that. It was such a 'Tony' thing to say.

"Alright, I'm working on it," Steve sensed that the others were waking up, and started working hard on the nail, bringing it out of the wall quickly. He then swung the window, which was little more than a set of bars nailed over the inside of a hole in the wall, so that it hung below, and opened up a pathway out.

"Alright, Tony, I'll give you a leg up. Tell me if you see anyone." Steve whispered, and made a foothold with his hands. As the shortest and smallest, Tony would be easiest to get out first.

The genius perched precariously, one foot held by Steve, the other dangling midair, and his midriff being supported by the lower surface of the hole in the wall.

"Coast's clear," Tony hissed, wriggling his way out and standing up. He couldn't see a wall anywhere nearby.

"Tony?" Clint appeared next to him, confused and sleepy. Tony quickly explained as Bruce and Steve climbed out. The blonde slid the bars back into place and handed Tony the knife and the fallen nails - if he left them on the floor of the cell, they'd be traced and tracked quite easily. At least they'd have the extra few minutes when Reed started searching the prison before figuring out that they'd escaped.

"That was pretty smart," Bruce shrugged, yawning quietly and cracking his knuckles. "Now we have to get out of Reed's territory.

Steve led the others into a shadow of a building, and then down an alleyway. He stopped as he found two people, shrouded in a dirty blanket, sleeping around a dying fire.

"Pepper!" Tony shout-whispered, shaking her awake. "It's me, stay quiet, we're here to come get you and Rhodes,"

"He's here," Pepper coughed, her voice hoarse. Bruce woke up Rhodey, who looked overjoyed and gave Bruce a strangely angled hug, to which he responded awkwardly.

"Now we just have to get out of here," Tony stated, making plans in his head already.

A/N: Sorry if for the next week or so the updates are inconsistent, I'll be on holiday and don't know how much time I'll have to write. Also, I'll be fangirling because Chris Pratt liked a picture I sent him on Facebook :D


	18. Chapter 18

"Okay, if we head to the DIY store, we should be able to get hold of some heavy-duty wire cutters. It's where the school gets theirs," Steve whispered as the group, now plus Pepper and Rhodey, tried to sneak through the town.

"We'll have to split up," Tony said. "Pietro and Bruce, if Bruce hulks out, Pietro can get everyone out of the way; Pepper and Rhodey, so that if you're questioned, you can't be punished; and that leaves me and Steve. We'll make a hole somewhere in the fence and then come get you guys."

They all agreed, and broke into their pairs.

Tony and Steve headed to the DIY store, climbing through the broken window. The store was in dire straits, with many of the shelves tipped over, and random coins scattered over the floor. Steve hopped over them neatly, but Tony couldn't quite jump so high, and resigned himself to watching from inside the smashed display window.

"Steve!" Tony hissed, hurriedly clambering over the fallen rack of car cleaner. He pulled the taller blonde to the floor as a flashlight beam blasted overhead, missing Steve's ragged-looking golden tufts by a finger's width.

"I think there's something in there," A voice, male, shouted. To their horror, the door swung open and a couple of boys entered the store.

"Get under the desk with me," Steve whispered, almost dragging Tony silently and as quickly as possible across the now dusty laminate floor. He and Tony then awkwardly folded limbs and body parts to fit under the desk, pulling a big flat-pack cardboard box to cover the opening. Tony was curled up as tight as possible, sitting on Steve's legs, while Steve was forced to use his arms to hold Tony upright, his head being forced down and into the nook of Tony's neck. In any other situation, Tony would be pissing himself laughing and Steve would be as red as a beetroot (it was highly likely that he was blushing anyway) but this was the only place they had to hide and there were larger, stronger boys who worked for Reed (Tony recognised the arrogant smirk of Johnny Storm) stalking through the room.

"I swear to god, Storm, if you take us on any more wild goose-" One voice said, before another cut him off.

"I can detect the sounds of another two people breathing," A voice said, robotic and malevolent. "If you hold your breath for a few seconds, I can isolate and track the sound."

Steve and Tony held their breath, desperately trying not to let noise out. Tony took hold of one of Steve's arms, holding it by the wrist, and squeezed to get rid of stress. Steve was too scared to care.

Through the crack of the desk, he could see the boys were carrying various weapons, from maces, to baseball bats, and _was that a sword?_

"I can't isolate them, the breath signatures have disappeared," The robotic voice confessed. Tony adjusted his spine, prepared to breathe out, when Steve suddenly grabbed him tightly, drawing his awkward gaze. Steve shook his head, filling his cheeks with the breath he'd been holding to convey the message. It was a trap; the robot would make them think he had given up, when really it was a ploy to make them breathe. Tony listened, and couldn't strain to hear the breathing of the other boys. He briefly considered kissing Steve, who had just saved both their lives.

Wait, what?

The thoughts were pushed from his head by the sound of footsteps approaching, dangerously close to the desk. Tony closed his eyes and silently, without moving, prayed to any god out there, and probably a few superheroes just to be sure, and was nearly stupid enough to release his stale breath when the footsteps receded.

The breathing in the room resumed, and Steve released his silently through his nose, inhaling and nearly moaning at how good it felt to breathe again. From the frantic exhaling and inhaling he felt from Tony's chest, Steve could tell Tony felt the same way. If he could get drunk on oxygen, he was doing.

"Okay, it was probably around the back," Storm admitted, earning groans from the other boys. The robot stepped into Steve's view and if he had been breathing noisily, he would have gasped.

The robot was terrifying.

With glowing, bone-chilling red eyes, long limbs, and metal plates in the place of muscles. Its face was an odd shape, with almost disk-like cheekbones extending the entire length of its head, forming points at the ends. Its voice was deep and gravelly, the sort that rose the hairs on the back of Steve's neck.

Then, in one long, large stride, the thing disappeared.

"Steve?" Tony whispered, after a few long moments. "You might want to let go of me now."

Steve shook his head to clear the image, releasing Tony from his vice-like grip. The smaller genius clambered up, making sure not to make noise. For a moment, he looked almost like a stray cat, limbs twitching, hair ruffled this way and that, his dark eyes wide with fear as they scanned the room.

Tony bent over and lifted an almost comically large pair of heavy duty wire or metal cutters and made scissor-style snipping motions with them, pulling off the tag.

"Well, at least we got what we came for." Steve chuckled, laughing despite himself. "Imagine if we'd left empty-handed after that experience."

"Here, take this," Tony tossed a large work uniform hoodie over to Steve, who caught it and gave him an odd look.

"Put it on," Tony hissed, draping another hoodie over his small frame and pulling the black hem down to cover most of his face. "If Reed's really in charge of _that_ , he's out for blood. We're running for our lives now."


	19. Chapter 19

After the incident in the DIY store, Steve and Tony had grown quiet and frantic, yet understandably better friends. Tony, when stressed, often went numb, frozen to the spot, leaving Steve's surprising logic and intelligence to shine through. Tony probably owed the blonde his life a few times over. He'd repay him at some point, as for right now, keeping breath in his lungs and blood in his veins was his main priority.

Sneaking to the wall was easier, a simple case of moving from group to group of squatters, making sure not to let the children they took shelter with see their faces. It was almost like being an escaped criminal. Technically, should Reed ever actually come to power, they would be.

"Alright, I can see the fence," Steve whispered as they turned a corner. Unlike the taller boy, Tony couldn't see over the rows of heads of people that had gathered around a bonfire in the middle of the street.

"Okay, how on earth are we gonna do this?" Tony was panicking now. In a stable situation, he'd easily be able to think his way out of it.

"I have an idea," Steve replied. "You see those bushes over there? I'll push you back into one of them, when nobody's looking. I'll follow when conversation rises, and I can slip away without being noticed. Wait for me by the fence, and we'll start work."

Tony and Steve slunk over to the ring of children around the large bonfire, adopting the walk of malnutritioned teenagers. When a large flame rose up, Steve took the opportunity to shove Tony back into the bush, wincing as Tony made a high-pitched yelp. He hoped he hadn't hurt him too badly, though a bruise wouldn't be too bad.

When another high flame rose, drawing gasps from its audience, Steve 'stumbled' backwards and fell into the bush, hitting his elbow on a root and hissing. It earned him a whisper of "It fucking hurts, doesn't it!?" from Tony, who looked more than a little annoyed. He had lodged the cutters into the wall and had made two or three good-sized cuts in the plywood layers.

"Right, push down on that handle, I'll pull up on this one," Steve then gave a one-two-three countdown and a long, thick crack appeared in the plywood, extending to about Steve's shoulder.

"Okay, now we have to widen it," Tony turned the cutters and opened the handles, forcing the gap to widen by a few inches. Steve strained too, but it was only wide enough to reach an arm through.

"We have to make another cut," Steve said, lifting the cutters and making a small incision in the wood. Tony groaned, though the noise was mostly drowned out by a response to a large crackle on the bonfire. Sensing the urgency, he helped make another deep slice and twist and widen it. Steve then lost his patience, waited for a rise in noise, and punched down the middle strip of wood. It left a considerably large hole, easily big enough for all six to sneak out.

"Now we just have to find the others." Steve hissed. Tony grinned.

"One step ahead of you." He pulled out a walkie talkie. "Rhodey carries one of these everywhere, so I can radio him. As does Bruce; I told Rhodey to return his to him when we met at the alleyway."

Steve wanted to kiss Tony, as he had just saved them a huge amount of time, and probably their lives. If they stayed in the compound for too long, they'd no doubt be caught and killed.

"Rhodey, Bruce, meet me in West Avenue, in the holly bush against the wall. We've cut a hole and are waiting for you guys. Where are you?" Tony sent a message into the walkie, and a few seconds later, Rhodey responded.

"Pepper and I are on route, we're turning into West Avenue now. We saw Pietro and Bruce a few streets back." Rhodey and Pepper joined them, squatting in the leaves, a few moments later. Tony's heart felt ready to explode out of his chest as he awaited news on the other two.

"We're on West street," Pietro's voice was music to their ears. "Bruce isn't talking, his throat hurts."

Within a few long, long moments, Pietro and Bruce joined the four, and they began dispatching through the hole, Tony and Steve sharing a relieved hug once they had all exited. A few empty streets, passed through at full sprinting speed later, the group was running up the grass plains, all lights out, and the shadows of the very early morning concealing any silhouettes they produced.

The group ran over the bridge, admittedly one by one, and up to the house, where the lights were on, but the air was still.

Pietro swung around the door, running at hyperspeed, and froze at what he saw.

Natasha, Clint, Wanda and Sam all cowered in a corner, Clint holding a kitchen knife with the blade openly on display.

Crouching at the open kitchen window, the one that they were all cowering from, was a hulking black figure.

It was like Wanda had described, only more terrifying, especially silent with an undetectable gaze.

The person appeared to have talons, and the catlike ears Wanda had described. It's, or their, presence was blood-curdling to say the least, like looking at a rabid dog, eerie and silent as it decides how it is going to tear the life from you.

Slowly, acknowledging the presence of the full house now, the person, whose now defined figure proved male, placed one foot onto the floor, the curved black claws on his toes making a spine-chattering clack on the floorboards. Soon, the other foot followed, and the figure rose to his feet, standing at easily the same height as Steve.

There appeared to be a stalemate.


	20. Chapter 20

The creator sat back, grinning and wetting his purple lips. Everything was going to plan; Tamworth, where his robotic creation, the self-named Ultron, was rising to power, and Stonebridge, where his daughters had divided and conquered. He did not approve of Peter Quill, however; he'd have to die before the wheels of his plan could move. As for the Lehnsherr inhabitants? They would not pose much of a problem, especially if he could turn the Wakanda family against them. He knew that T'Challa had entered the house, and hoped that it ended in violence; the Lehnsherr, Maximoff, whatever title they had been going by, children wouldn't stand a chance.

He had wanted to keep the adults, but the mysterious mutant, who he could not reach, still sat outside the dome, unable or unwilling to enter. He was irritating the creator; even now, as the students turned eighteen, they would be removed. The creator assumed they were being moved to outside his range; outside the dome.

Meanwhile in Stonebridge, Peter Quill and Gamora had worked together to unite the remaining people in the town. They wanted to explore, to reach out to Tamworth, and the creator hoped that would happen. It would be... interesting, to say the least.

As he pondered this, he returned to observing the Lehnsherr house. Now, the real fun began.

* * *

The dark character stood, his head now noticeably turned to Tony, whom collapsed to the floor, gripping his temples and writhing with agony. The others were unable to decide between helping him and fleeing the house.

Inside Tony's head, a memory was reenacted.

The memory was dark, with fear tinging the edges. He remembered this room; the dark, high windows, made with expensive timber from some far-off country. There were delicate lights decorating the walls and rain was pouring outside, making what should have been a relaxing noise.

He was standing in the workshop of his large house, arguing with his father. He didn't know what the argument was about, but it was violent, his father having removed his glasses and given Tony a near broken cheekbone. His face stung, and as his father was striding towards him as he desperately staggered to his feet.

Tony's fingers began to tingle oddly, an uncommon sensation. There was a prickly heat, not unlike the after affects of sunburn. He had extended a hand out in front of him, desperately pleading with his father not to lay another blow on him, when Howard Stark had fallen down and not risen again.

The flesh on the left side of his face and throat had been singed to the point of melting, forming a goo-like liquid. He was paralysed with pain, and lay there, Tony watching, his fear for his father replaced with fear for himself. His hands glowed slightly, a pale blue light, in highest concentration around his palms. He also had a faint blue glow in an odd pattern across his chest, but it faded quickly, soon enough for his often frail, distant mother to appear and take her dying husband into her arms.

Howard Stark did not die that night, and after an excessive amount of lifesaving and then cosmetic surgery, returned to work and home. However, he had not laid a hand on Tony since. Instead, the teenager had been left with more money than he knew what to do with. Howard and Tony had been speaking by email, discussing things like school. Howard had held Tony at a safe distance ever since.

The others saw this, too, even if their heads weren't hurting as much as Tony's.

Steve looked up at the dark-clad intruder, who he thought was no doubt responsible for the vision.

"Now do you see?" The intruder's voice was deep and even. "This dome, if i may, was far from an accident, much like your mutations."

"What are you saying?" Steve spoke after the moment of shock had receded.

"What I am saying is, none of this is an accident. Many of you were already mutants, the mutations were just not active. There is a controller, a creator, and he is manipulating the events that we will watch unfold. For example, their supposedly new mutations." He gestured a dark paw towards Pietro and Wanda.

"Who are you, and how would you know?" Tony groaned from the floor where Steve supported him. Clint smirked; that looked interesting, he thought.

"My name is T'Challa, and Charles Xavier has sent me." The dark figure pulled back his mask and revealed sharp, angular cheekbones with large, dark eyes. "The outsider, who is a telepath, has been communicating with me. He is responsible for the removal of those above a certain age, and knows what the creator's plan is. In order to fight back, we all must work together."

"Well, you don't seem to be working by yourself." Steve commented, still not trusting. He appeared to be the only person in the room willing to respond.

"I am the head of the Wakanda family, a large group of relatives disconnected from your modern world. We all know how to hunt and fight, and there are many of us. As I speak, Shuri and Bashenga ride for Stonebridge, where they will meet with a man called Peter Quill."

"And Charles Xavier told you this?" Pietro asked incredulously. "Prove it, then. Tell us something only our father would know; he's Charles's closest friend."

T'Challa was silent for a moment, presumably sending thoughts to Charles. He then opened his eyes, fixed them on Pietro and spoke. "You and Wanda used to be each other's only friends, and were never a moment apart. You were bullied by a boy nicknamed Strucker in your first year of secondary school, and he only stopped when Wanda manipulated his mind. She didn't even know she was doing it. Charles and Erik manipulated your memories so that you wouldn't have the pressure of knowing about your abilities until later in life."

"Well, I trust him." Pietro said instantly. It had all been true.

Slowly, the others ventured their trust forwards, and Steve confirmed it.

"Well, I guess we're all on board. Where do we start?"

 **End of Part One**

A/N: Man I'm excited to start work on the next part! Thankyou to everyone who was watched, read and reviewed the story so far! It's only going to get better from here :D


	21. Chapter 21

Bucky was numb.

He couldn't feel most of his body, his arm in particular. He could feel his right arm, but not his left. He couldn't move.

A light came on, too bright to allow Bucky to see. He squirmed, trying to move all his body that he could.

Suddenly, a high-pitched drilling sound filled the air, like a crude version of a dentist's drill. Bucky felt fear drip down his spine like a cold syrup, melding around his bones and chilling them.

Suddenly, a long, sharp pain, like an intense bee sting, ruptured through Bucky's shoulders, making a disgusting clacking noise when it hit bone. Bucky screamed and screamed until his lungs barely breathed, and only then did he hear their voices.

"Alright, I have made an incision into the medial of the scapula, please apply the synthetic infraspinatus now." He was being operated on. Whoever was operating knew their stuff, as he didn't understand most of the terms. The voice was robotic, and Bucky didn't trust it.

How long had he even been gone? He'd been snatched in the woods, while throwing a stick for Lila. Two large boys had manhandled him to the ground, pressing weak chloroform to his mouth and slamming his head onto a thick root to make sure the job got done.

Bucky still felt the dull ache from the impact, but it was nothing compared to his left shoulder; he suspected that he was being cut open, and there were large, thick cords of metal - was that metal? - being applied in the place of the organic tissue.

"He's waking up," The voice repeated, mainly to itself, Bucky figured. "Richards, some anaesthetic, if you will."

Bucky strained, feeling red hot pain rupture through his entire back and left side. _What are they doing to me?_

He didn't get to find out, as panic filled his system when a silhouette, fuzzy and blurred, appeared in the light.

"It'll be my pleasure," Reed's voice almost sounded like a different person; malicious, angry, and hateful.

A fist landed between Bucky's eyes at lightning speed.

* * *

"And you're sure you haven't seen him?" Steve asked T'Challa, whom he had been speaking to for the entire night, worriedly.

T'Challa shook his head. He had not seen the boy Steve referred to as "Bucky". "I will ask my family, but I doubt anyone will know him."

Steve's eyebrows knitted together in fear. Bucky would have to return soon, right? He was bound to be somewhere.

At the bottom of his mind, Steve felt guilty. He had meant to go and search for Bucky, but Reed had really torn that plan to pieces. Steve cursed under his breath, which no doubt would have made Tony grin, and the conversation drifted back to what T'Challa did and didn't know.

"Okay, so I think we should reach out to Stonebridge-" Steve said, pulling a map he'd nicked from a store in the 'Reed Republic' (god, that sounded ridiculous, he thought) and laying it on the table. Steve then pulled a pen from his pocket and started to mark where he'd seen the wall intersect, forming a near-perfect circular edge.

He didn't pick up on the amazed expression that T'Challa displayed until he didn't answer Steve's question. "What is it?"

"I've never seen a map that covers more than my family's land," T'Challa stroked a finger gently over the paper. "This is very fascinating."

"Wait until you try the internet," Tony called, walking in with a few pot noodles in his hands, trying not to spill the boiling water. T'Challa wrinkled his nose at the smell, disliking it.

"Hey, don't hate the noodle. Trust me, this stuff is like nectar. You can live off of it for weeks on end." Steve didn't even want to know how Tony knew that. He knew the genius was an extreme bachelor, but living off of Pot Noodles? No wonder he was so short.

"This doesn't taste very healthy," T'Challa spoke up, chewing his first bite with an odd expression. Tony tried not to grin too much, sipping the excess soup from his own cup. "It's a wonder you can be alive if this is what you eat."

"There's enough in them to keep you going, just not enough to make you grow," Steve poked fun at Tony, who grinned wickedly and responded with equal fire.

"Are you calling me short, lofty?" Steve grinned at that, tipping his head back and drinking. He hated the pungent taste of the flavouring, so Tony had learned to water it down and decant the excess. Steve certainly appreciated it.

"You bet I am," Steve retorted. "Let me know if you need a stool."

Tony and Steve started to flick at each other, making T'Challa roll his eyes. These people reminded him of his brothers and sisters, and they seemed nice enough. He had long decided that he liked them.

"Alright, so, you say Bucky went missing in the woods around the bridge?" T'Challa spoke up.

Steve nodded, turning back to the map, which still fascinated T'Challa. "I'll circle the area in black, and the red area is where we have searched."

The blonde whipped out a pair of markers from his jean pockets and drew a small black circle and a larger red blob around it.

"Well, I think I have a relatively good idea where your friend is," T'Challa said once Steve had made sure the lines were accurate.

T'Challa's eyebrows wrinkled together, almost like Steve's did. "A few days ago, Bashenga was looking for herbs just outside of the red border. He said he found tracks, and it looked like someone had been taken and dragged off."

Steve's heart skipped a beat. "May I speak to him?"


	22. Chapter 22

Bucky woke up in a cell, _with_ cold tiles at his back. He twitched, and it felt like the rips and tears that Reed and that _monster_ had inflicted were beginning to heal. He had some sort of cloth over his mouth, blocking his airways. He reached to rip the fabric, and surprisingly, both his arms came. They felt relatively normal, and he tore through the thin layer of what felt like coffee paper with ease.

Bucky got a glance at his left hand when he placed the fabric on the floor, flooding his starved lungs with delicious oxygen. His mind blanked as he saw the metallic, robotic horror that replaced his limb.

From the tips of his fingers to his shoulder blade, his arm had been replaced by some kind of machinery. It looked very advanced, and the metal was flexible and sensitive - it rivalled the sensitivity of his regular arm - but it was not his arm.

 _What have they done to me?_

Bucky was so consumed with hyperventilating and panicking that he barely noticed the metallic taps that signified the robot walking towards his cell. Yeah, Bucky was being kept in a cell at the town's mediocre prison. God, he hated it here. He'd been in on two occasions - once because he'd stopped a fight in town, and a second time for defending Steve from a gang. Bucky generally didn't like policemen; he felt they didn't do a good enough job protecting.

"James." It was a statement, not a question, from the same robotic voice that haunted Bucky's head. "You're James."

Bucky swung around and gazed into the fiery red eyes that the robot was peering down at him with. The tall, almost gigantic, being had bent over, hands - were they hands? - clasped behind his back.

"I have some questions for you." The robot remained standing, eyes fixed intently on Bucky, who averted his gaze.

"What... what did you do to me?" Bucky managed, his voice shaky and raw from the screaming.

"What did I do _for_ you," The robot corrected. "My name is Ultron, and you, James Buchanan Barnes, are my test subject."

Bucky gulped, shivering partly from the cold and partly from terror. "Why?"

"This body, the one I have been given, is not designed to last. I think he made me that way on purpose. And it's why I need you." The robot gestured to the way his arms were beginning to scratch. The surface of his fingers had cuts and marks to rival a chopping board.

"I need to design something more alive, an android, if you will. But my design is faulty, and you are going to help me perfect it. I already started with your arm."

Bucky unconsciously crossed his arms, sitting and leaning away from Ultron.

"God knows the others got out. I told Reed to be more careful with them, and did he listen? Thank god I'll be taking over before long. That boy couldn't rule for more than a month." Ultron was rambling to himself, gesturing to an empty cell across the hall.

"There were others?" Bucky asked. "What happened?"

"You probably knew them. Steve, Tony, Bruce, Pietro... God, what kind of name is that? Just call the kid Peter." Bucky realised that if he manipulated Ultron, he would give away information. "They unscrewed the bolts in the window and climbed out. I _told_ Reed to search them, and did he listen?"

"Sounds like an asshole," Bucky coughed into his elbow. Ultron's gaze travelled up and down his body, and Bucky hoped that he was considering letting him out. If he could convince Ultron into thinking he would be a good replacement for Reed, he could be let out, and then he could escape.

"It's a shame I can't train you. You seem observant, and in case you're planning something, I nailed a second load of bars to the other side of the window and welded the nails in place. You've shown to be cunning, which is more than Reed has going for him. But you're going to be equally important; you will be my sword."

"What do you mean?" Bucky was now genuinely curious. "And how long have I been out?"

"As for the easiest question, you've been unconscious for roughly four days," Ultron began, bringing a knife from behind his back. "And as for the second, you will learn, and become my assassin. I cannot have anyone opposing my upcoming rule, and now I know that my design works, I will begin a full-scale work with my generation cradle. I've been working on it for a few days. In a few weeks, you will be skilled and obedient enough to have basic freedom. Until then, become familiar with this."

Ultron handed the blade through the bars, and Bucky took a firm hold of it by the handle. It was the perfect fit to his robotic hand, and he had no doubt that he would be able to cause damage. He didn't want to, though.

 _You have to play along. Wait until he trusts you and sends you off to kill someone, then make a break for it._

Bucky liked that plan. He sat for hours and hours on end that night, unable to sleep, just tossing and catching the knife, until he could do it with either hand, behind his back, and with his eyes closed.

Some deep instinct told Bucky that he'd need to do a lot more than train himself on how to toss the knife. Even deeper, and even more scary, another voice said he'd have to slit throats with it. The rest of Bucky's mind squashed and blocked out that part of his mind, for now.

Bucky wouldn't willingly kill anyone; he promised himself that, at least. He had to keep some code of honor. He'd think of one tomorrow, right along with a plan to escape and return to his friends. If he didn't, his sanity would slip, and he wasn't sure if it would come back.

He had to escape. It was all he had left.


	23. Chapter 23

"What do you think is gonna happen next?" Clint asked, skimming a rock across the smooth, glossy surface of a small lake he'd found near the house.

Natasha, who was sat on a smooth, low-lying tree branch above him, shrugged and took another sip of water. "I just hope that they don't make stupid decisions."

Wanda was sat next to her, another bottle of water flipping and twirling, shrouded in the red mist she used to move things. Pietro was skipping rocks with Clint at the shoreline as they waited for T'Challa, who quite frankly scared them, to finish speaking and planning with Steve and Tony, the nominated leaders. Steve had proven himself strongest and bravest, and had earned the respect of all, and Tony was intelligent and logical, providing the other half of a noble leader.

"So, where do you think Bucky is?" Clint asked the girls as they swung their legs absentmindedly.

Natasha raised one red eyebrow, tilting her head like a puppy as she thought. "He's probably alive, and probably well. You know Bucky. He's probably gotten lost and gone on to the Bunker, if he's smart."

"There's a Bunker?" Wanda asked.

"North of here, a few hours' walk. It's pretty big, and military-owned, but there's few weapons there so it's not too strictly enforced. Sam and Bucky's dads work there, and Steve lives with Bucky, so naturally those three grew up on the barracks." Natasha started. "The Bunker is full of food and supplies, but it's not got any weapons. It's about as armed as my aunt and uncle's store aside from a few pocket knives."

Pietro nodded. "But there are weapons up there, yes?"

Natasha responded with a nod, eyeing him curiously. "The few they have are kept under thick lock and key, so don't get any ideas. That's if the Bunker is inside this 'FAYZ 2' at all. From what I read, the last one was only ten miles in diameter."

"Well, for that we'd have to know the centre." Clint started. "And I don't suppose there's some gaia-whatever lurking around under the ground of Tamsworth. Everyone who comes here says the same thing; it's pretty crap save the school. A station, a few staple stores, not even a particularly big chain store and a tired old bunker hidden off in the woods. Who would want to take over it?"

Pietro shrugged, and the girls raised their eyebrows, bored.

"Hey, I have an idea," Natasha said. "Let's go and get Lila and Cooper. Does anyone have a good stick?"

Pietro whistled loudly, something he learned in order to summon the dogs. They came padding out of the woods a few minutes later, tongues lolling.

"They miss Buck," Clint said, ruffling Cooper's dark ears. "I wonder where he is."

* * *

The answer was not pleasant.

Bucky was having to run an incredibly gruelling course all through the night. He had no idea how long it was, only that the robot had attached a tracker to the back of his neck and that when Bucky disagreed, he would be electrocuted to the point of screaming. He'd made the mistake of disobeying twice before resigning himself to a slow pace, desperately trying not to stop.

The robot, Ultron, would follow him with quick, long-legged steps. He said that this giant thing was an experiment, and he was testing Bucky.

Bucky hated pop quizzes, let alone this. His feet, bare, ached, and his shirt and trousers were muddied and torn at the hems. He had been forced through one obstacle and onto the next for nearly 24 hours straight; it was taking a toll.

Bucky's hands were raw and carried a few shallow cuts from when Ultron had begun to teach him how to fight with knives, his shoulder was bruised and his arm sore from fighting and hand to hand combat, and now his legs ached so bad that Bucky half hoped that Ultron would cut those off and replace them too. At least the metal arm wasn't too heavy.

It was far stronger than any average arm, as he'd learned when he missed Storm's arm. The kid was good at fighting, as his reputation said, so he'd been sparring with Bucky and jumped out of the way of a punch. The metal fist, still remarkably shiny, had gone straight through the brick wall behind him, painlessly. Bucky had been amazed, and looked at the spectating Ultron in surprise, who was nodding. He was great at designing, Bucky would give him that.

Kidnapping, torturing and potentially killing? Ultron had proved great at that, too.

"Why do I have to do this?" Bucky asked for the hundredth time as he vaulted the low wooden gate at the end of the field for what felt like the thousandth time.

Ultron followed, muttering. "You know why. Finish this lap and you're done; you've worked well for your first day."

Bucky rolled his eyes, running around the smaller field with renewed energy at the news. "You're going to make me do this again?"

"Until you can outrun me, and outfight Storm." Reed appeared, grinning, at the worn out Bucky. Ultron turned away and headed off to wherever he was living.

"Reed, restrain him until later." Again, another fist met with Bucky's forehead. He hated this; why couldn't he just walk around? It wasn't like he had the option to run away without being fried.

Bucky was half-awake as he got dragged back to the prison cell. Through hazy eyelids, he could see the buildings that surrounded and shrouded the path to the prison. He'd have to find a way out, but first, he'd have to remove the shock collar that Ultron had installed.

It was a plan, if a daunting one.

A/N: Sorry for the late updating! I've just got back and we were on the road for a long time without wifi so I haven't been able to upload anything. The next chapters will come quickly, I promise!


	24. Chapter 24

Over the weeks, things in the house settled.

Steve calmed down as T'Challa took him out on daily searches through the woods on the trail for Bucky, and he felt they would come pretty close soon. Bashenga and Shuri had volunteered to follow the trail on their land and see if anything came up.

Clint had been hunting with the bow and arrows, and Pietro had been accompanying him. The now close friends had worked out a pretty easy-going schedule, with Clint shooting the creature of choice, and Pietro running and grabbing it. Wanda had worked with them a few times, but she mostly got bored by the constant stream of inside-jokes and banter that filled the hours in the woods.

Wanda instead preferred to stay over at the house, using her powers to move things. Recently, Sam and Rhodey, the apparent engineers of the house, had undertaken the task of building a wooden bridge over the river so that the house inhabitants didn't have to choose either wet feet or precarious footing on the fast-eroding concrete remains.

Pepper and Natasha got on like a house on fire, both being reasonable, logical, and neat-freaks. The mess that the guys made (with the exception of Steve and Wanda) irked them no end, so they spent lots of time cleaning, maintaining and organising the house. Tony often joined them, personally offended by the way that Rhodey and Sam were constructing the bridge. (He hated the design to the point where it hurt his eyes.)

God knew what was happening down in Reed's play-pen.

* * *

"Hey, Tones," Steve had adopted the nickname he'd heard Pepper and Rhodey using so much. "Can you get under here and throw me the can?"

Tony was walking downstairs when he glanced into Steve and once-Bucky's room, where Steve was struggling to get under a bed. The ones in the room were extremely low, and it was funny to see the giant attempting to slide under them.

Tony tried to keep a straight face as he ran over, swiftly dropping to the floor and cleanly sliding under mission-impossible style. He easily grabbed the tin of spray-on joint loosener (was Steve trying to make the door fall off or something?)

"Why do you have joint loosener?" Tony threw the spray can back to Steve.

"There's a really stuffy old brick building pretty far out in the woods. The door's too thick to break through and rusted in place. I hope this can help; I found it in the garage." Steve explained, shaking it and making sure it was full.

"So why is it underneath your bed?" Tony was looking at him weirdly.

"I was running upstairs to shut the window, and I fell." Steve looked down, awkward. Tony just started laughing, the sound filling the room. It wasn't a mean laugh, just the idea of Steve falling over being hilarious to him. Steve started chuckling too.

"Alright, I'm gonna go and try to get the door to open," Steve rose to his feet and exited the room, waving a small goodbye to Tony, who followed like an impatient puppy.

"Please can I come? I haven't been out of this house since the spider incident. If I stay in this place, I'll end up crazy, and build a bridge even worse than Rhodey and Sam." Steve rolled his eyes sarcastically, nodding. Tony's reaction did not seem healthy; to Steve, nobody should be that excited about going outside, especially if it was the first time in days.

"Alright..." Steve and Tony set off into the woods, looking for the small building where T'Challa waited.

Steve hadn't exaggerated, the door was pretty much welded to its frame. It took nearly a whole can for the hinges to creak, and even then, it took both T'Challa and Steve's combined strength to get it open. (Tony was supervising and holding the almost-empty can - obviously important jobs.)

Inside, the building was smaller than they had imagined, and lined with various tools and wires. It looked like a maintenance station for the town's landline and wifi cables. The whole thing was covered in spiderweb, and they looked pretty thick. It was clear that nobody had been into the building in a long time.

"Great," Steve sighed. "Still no closer to finding Buck."

"Don't worry," T'Challa heaved the door back into place. "We'll find him soon enough. And besides, Bashenga and Shuri haven't returned yet."

Tony shrugged. "You know Bucky, Steve. If anything, he's probably gone down to the school to make sure that Peggy and the others are okay. I haven't seen Jarvis around, so he's probably followed him."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. "Who is 'Jarvis'?"

"He's just a dog that I accidentally adopted. He kept on following me. He's huge, so I doubt people would jump Bucky if he was with him." Tony rambled, trying to sound reassuring. He didn't like seeing the normally cheerful blonde so worried. After all, there was nothing that worrying could do.

"Alright, fair enough. But I'd still like to keep searching around here." Steve seemed to lose the tension in his muscles.

"Obviously. If he's in the woods, we can find him." T'Challa's fewer words seemed to reassure Steve more than Tony's did. The shorter boy wasn't sure how he felt about that. Wait, since when did he care so much? If Steve was reassured, then that was what matt-

"Come on, let's head back to the house. Clint and Pietro seemed hyped about something." Steve changed the subject.

When they returned, the prophecy rang true. Clint was rapidly explaining and Pietro was shifting from foot to foot, sometimes so fast that his limbs blurred.

"Steve, Tony, T'Challa, guess what?" Pietro was making an effort to pronounce T'Challa's name correctly, even through his accent. The head of the Wakanda family appreciated it.

"We're not the only town stuck in here." Clint finished. "You won't believe what's happening in Stonebridge."

A/N: Just to clarify: The Xavier school is set in the fictional town of Tamworth, and the other town is called Stonebridge, a small rival. Creative names, I know. Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

Pietro had woken up that day with an itch to run. Generally it happened a lot; while before mutating, he wanted nothing more than to laze and sit (as if his father would ever allow that) he now wanted nothing more than to sprint around at hyperspeed. It was somewhat addictive, seeing the world freeze as he continued to move at a regular pace.

In truth, he'd suspected that the peace wouldn't last. Nothing ever remained so _stable,_ especially not in a situation like this.

Pietro had run around all day, sometimes dragging Clint along with him. He'd taken a few daring steps close to Reed's wall, but the thing was so tall now that he had to jump to see over it. This was no problem for Clint, who climbed like a cat. When Pietro tried, his reward had been a dusty backside and a large bruise.

Bored after a few minutes, he and Clint had travelled to Stonebridge, at normal pace, much to Pietro's irritation. He supposed he needed Clint's directions, but it was almost as if the archer was walking slowly on purpose.

Once he had reached the town, he had found it to be in much better shape than the one Reed had seized - the fire engines were being run, amazingly, and stores and market stalls had been set up, selling foods that the farmer's kids had brought in. Admittedly, the food was sparse and there was a lot of bartering, but the loud marketplace was much safer than the cold silence that lay over Reed's town like a heavy blanket.

"This is incredible," Clint had whispered under his breath. "Who organized this?"

Pietro shook his head in response, his eyes transfixed on a small stall selling odd-looking fruits. He hadn't seen food like this in weeks; the rationed non-perishables from down in his basement had grown boring even faster than the eggs had. That was not something he'd ever expected to think; the endless eggs had nearly driven him insane.

"I think that's who," Pietro pointed to a large, muscular boy (seriously, this guy looked even bigger than Steve) who stood next to a girl with odd-coloured hair and the strong air that Natasha gave off. They were marching towards Clint and Pietro.

When they reached them, Clint stuck out a hand, but neither took it. An awkward air leaking into the atmosphere, he lowered it.

"Who are you and why are you here?" The girl asked, her eyes narrowing. "Don't waste our time."

Clint turned to Pietro, who made a shrug motion. The archer rolled his eyes, irritated at being left to do the talking.

"My name is Clint and this is Pietro. We're from Tamworth." Clint explained, gesturing to the slightly tattered uniforms they wore. "We're just here to ask if everything's okay. God knows it's gone to shit in Tamworth."

"What has happened?" The girl's mouth pressed into a thin line. Pietro noticed that she refused to introduce herself or her companion, who just stood with his muscled arms folded.

"A boy named Reed and a being called Ultron have taken over, and are quarantining the town. The citizens are starving, and live in fear. He's set up a tall fence to keep out intruders." Clint explained, trying to keep his voice smooth.

"And why should we care about that?" The boy hissed, his now exposed voice deeper than Clint had thought.

Clint furrowed his brow. "You shouldn't. We're just here to see how everything is, because of how badly it's going in Tamworth."

The girl frowned. "Who is 'Ultron'?"

An idea formed in Pietro's mind. "You've got to see it to believe it. If you want to know, you'll have to head into the town centre. That's where he likely is."

Pietro did a wierd step backwards, then placed a hand on Clint's elbow, ready to drag him with him. The other two simply misread it as the boys being good friends.

"Some wild stuff is happening down there. You should really come and visit." With that, Pietro ran at full speed, hoping to leave them at least somewhat confused.

He stopped a few streets away, safely out of sight.

"Okay, now to do some thieving," Pietro grinned. He pulled the backpack he'd been carrying off of his shoulders.

"You came here before, didn't you?" The silver-haired trickster grinned, nodding.

The pair, having discussed a plan, broke off and split up. Pietro would use his speed to steal, whereas Clint was light handed and could easily saunter from stall to stall without being noticed.

In the distance, he saw brief flashes of blue, and grinned internally.

"There he is," Clint heard a voice say, and instantly shoved all the things he was carrying (small items, thank god) out of sight and swung around. The pair from earlier were bringing an auburn-haired boy, who was about as tall as Steve and Sam, over to him.

"My name is Peter Quill, and these two have introduced you as Clint. I run buisiness down here, in case you were wondering." The boy began. "I heard you had information on a character named Ultron? If you could be so kind, where could I find him?"

"You know who Ultron is?" Clint's brow furrowed.

"I've heard of him. And if I can strike a deal to keep this town safe, I'm going to." Peter retorted.

"How have you heard of him?"

"I have connections inside the wall. Friends, you might say."

"Ultron doesn't know about this town yet. You'll be safe for a while."

Peter shook his head. "Gamora here is one of the closest friends of Susan Storm, Reed's right hand woman. She's been feeding me information on Reed and Ultron, and their plans. Do you know what's going on down there?"

Clint shrugged. "As long as my friends and I are safe and out of harm's way, I don't really care."

"Peter, we should focus on more important things than this honourless traveller. He clearly has no values or morals if he's going to leave a town like that down there. We have confirmation that they're moving ahead quickly, and should attack soon."

"Wait, you guys are going to-"

Pietro barrelled into Clint at hyper speed pulling him away from the town centre and into a nearby field in mere seconds.

"Clint, we have to go," Pietro's voice was ragged and grave. "Now."


	26. Chapter 26

T'Challa was running for his life now.

Behind him, his brothers turned enemies leapt through the forest, each twice as agile and swift as his own broken, staggering body.

He'd been betrayed.

T'Challa sat bolt upright, taking in a deep breath. It was okay. He'd-

He was sat in the roots of a tree, almost like a cat in a cave.

What was he doing in here?

Memories flooded back.

The metal man in their camp, spinning stories of how T'Challa planned war on Reed's camp. The look of fury in Hunter and Jakarra's eyes.

 _The boy with the metal arm, chasing him._

Poking his head out of a gap in the roots, T'Challa decided he was safe.

When he stood, he realised where he was; it was where he'd seen Wanda. The house wasn't too far away.

Staggering to his feet, T'Challa took inventory. Lots of cuts and bruises on his lower legs, and a few long, thin lacerations running across his arms. Memories filled his mind, running through holly and batting the leaves out of his way.

* * *

"Do you remember anything?" Steve asked T'Challa as Bruce set some weird-smelling kind of poultice on T'Challa's lacerated skin.

"I saw them talking to a metal man," T'Challa hissed, wincing visibly at the pain. "He was tall, and he had a boy with him. About Sam's height, with overgrown dark hair and a metal arm."

The hope on Steve's face soon dissipated. He had thought for a moment about the possibility of Bucky, but then discarded the idea. He had no metal arm, and would never willingly work with Ultron.

"So now we have a new housemate," Clint came in from the woods. "You're a permanent resident now?"

"It would appear so," T'Challa sighed, wincing when he tried to move. "Did you not bring news from Stonebridge? Or is that the incorrect name?"

"No, that's it. And yeah, everything's going so much better down there." Clint then heaved his backpack from his shoulders. "I didn't get to tell you earlier, Steve, but Pietro and I make an excellent stealing team."

"I'll forgive this for now," Steve said, immediately coming over at the sight of food. "How did you get all this?"

"All the farmers' kids have been trading what would have been the harvest. I think there's some kind of currency, but I'm not sure." Clint started to unpack the huge amounts of root vegetables, fruits and other goods that he and the speedster had stolen.

"Well, Chally, what's up with your Wa-clan-da?" Clint sat down heavily in the armchair across from T'Challa, pleased with himself at the play on words.

"Effectively, Jakarra and Hunter have been convinced that I am an awful leader who intends to start a war on your hometown." T'Challa sighed heavily, fiddling with the black mask in his hands.

"Who convinced them? I'm assuming it was somebody special." Clint grabbed a carrot straight from his pack and started eating it unwashed, much to the irritated protest of Steve, who spouted on about infection and disease.

"I believe a metal man should suffice." T'Challa sighed again.

"Ultron found the Wakanda family," Steve started. "No doubt he knows where we are, too. He's probably watching us as we speak."

"I guess our defense is a good offense, right?" Clint spoke, once he had swallowed a mouthful of the orange vegetable. "Unless you want to go braid each other's hair and sit in a field of flowers."

"I think that any action should be approved of by everyone in the house," T'Challa stated, ever the balancer. "Perhaps over your evening meal?"

"That sounds good to me. And look at all these wonderful vegetables we have to cook with," Clint called sarcastically, before making a retching noise and stepping out of the front door to gather the others.

* * *

"And how many are there in the house?" Ultron asked from his seat inside one of the Wakanda family's tents. His manipulation had gone easier than he expected; the ones named Hunter and Jakarra had quickly turned on their brother.

"I am not sure, but there are more than when I was there," Bucky replied. "At least two new additions, plus T'Challa, who I can confirm is taking shelter there."

Ultron nodded, his red eyes drifting to Bucky. "He made it to the house, then. I take it this was because of his superior climbing and leaping skills, not because of your friendship."

"We aren't, and weren't, friends." Bucky responded, his voice hollow.

"Alright. I recommend you rest, given our plans for tomorrow. I do not expect Rogers to escape." Bucky knew an escape opportunity when he saw one.

"Yes, I understand." He ducked out of the tent. Hopefully, his plan would work.

* * *

"Okay, everyone, hear hear," Clint stood up from his position around the bonfire, fork in one hand and cup in another.

"It doesn't quite work with a plastic cup and plastic fork," Tony shouted from his position next to Steve, who was eating like he'd never seen food before.

"Well, Mr Rogers, would you like to inform everyone of our new information on Ultron's plan?" Clint shouted, and the blonde went into an awkward coughing fit, which therefore sent Tony into hysterics.

"Charming," Natasha said, handing Steve a cup of water as he awkwardly tried not to vomit. "Clint, can you take the lead? I don't fancy being puked on."

"Alright, fine then." Clint took a deep breath. "Ultron's at the Wakanda family's camp, and has convinced them that T'Challa is a bad leader, and now he's been thrown out."

Everyone fell silent as Clint continued reeling off the current situation. He felt everyone's gazes passing him and turned-

Ultron's face was mere inches from his, but significantly higher.

"I appreciate your concerns, Mr Barton. But I'm afraid that you can't do anything."

Clint saw the blood before he felt the wound.

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updating! I've been really busy with juggling life stuffs. I'm also considering putting a second story up on here, a teenage-era Stony one? Paper Towns has inspired me :D


	27. Chapter 27

Yo, hey guys, sorry but I'm taking a break with this fanfic to get my other one, a highschool AU, up and running. Once it's at around 10-12 chapters I'll head back over here and start writing it again. Thanks :)


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